Friday, February 23


she said: 'why don't you ever make big muffins?'
and i replied: 'because the object is MORE.'
did she get it? did she care?
was that an acceptable explanation for the baking of many medium muffins?
check the teleport:

and most of all:
lemon ginger oatmeal muffins!!!
dudes, i didn't work yesterday.
it's true.
aside from electronic correspondence, and appointment making, of course.
the thing is- i was physically absent from AMPERSAND TATTOO all day.
it felt terrible, to be honest.
the muffins helped with ameliorating that.
for real.
it's difficult to be upset with a magnificently majestic, knobbly, sweet, spiced, oaten,
citrus-kissed single-serving softball of sexxxiness on your plate.
believe that, homeboy.
if my day-off companion wants the big ginger lemon jauns,
she GETS the big ginger lemon jauns.
trying to insinuate that i can't make big muffins,
just because i want a lot of muffins.
maaaaaan, that's almost insulting.
except, these six meteors of powerful interwoven taste and texture dispel the idea
that i can't doo-doo the freakiest sh!t in a mixing bowl.
we got what we wanted; to live in a house that is haunted...
by the ghosts of you and me.
here's how to conjure some spirits of your own:
preheat your oven to 350℉
in a medium mixing bowl, competely cream together:
1 stick vegan butter equivalent;
1/2 tsp salt;
1 tsp vanilla;
1 T minced skin-on organic ginger;
1 lemon's zest;
1/2 tsp lemon extract;
2 tsp ground dried ginger;
1/2 cup sugar.
next, stir in 2/3 cup non-dairy yogurt,
followed by:
1 1/4 cups flour;
2/3 cup oat flour;
4 T whole rolled oats;
1 tsp bakey powpow;
1 tsp bakey soda.
give it all a quick stir,
then pour in:
1/4 cup lemon juice;
3/4 cup non-dairy milk.
whip it up, combine the dry and wet so it's all one messy mass,
ans evenly scoop it into some greased big muffin tins/pan/tubs/.
bake those up for 35 minutes,
and get ready to get psyched, because they're doooooooooooope.
and if you add the icing?
i mean, y'kinda gotta do that, y'know?
too much is the right amount after all....
dried ground ginger, lemon zest, lemon juice, and powdered sugar.
four ingredients to increase the supersoul sabor de esprit?
do it-
immediately, and frequently for maxxxium maxxximuffin magic.
a day away from the studio.
there's SO much i could do,
and when the frailties of my humanity require hours of F*ing off
to build relationships and bonds and all of that stuff,
i do it, of course, because that's what is necessary.
i don't have to be happy about it, though.
if a tireless work ethic somehow translated to the leisure and pleasure
of interpersonal politics,
i can only imagine the success i'd have enjoyed before now.
as it stands,
i'll do what i must to get what i want,
and if a day here and there, throughout the seasons,
brings me closer to the people i care about?
so be it.
whether through absence or attention,
i strive to build bonds that'll adhere to the tenets and timbers, timbre,
pitch, and pace of worthy warrior poetry for me and mine.
that work ethic, translated through a filter and focus of P.M.A.?
that's that hot dookie rope chain sh!t;
and if, like me, you rep the fresh for 88 hiphop,
you already know that means that it's expert.
hell yes, kids.
where we're going, we won't need days off;
never quiet, never soft.....

Thursday, February 22


okay, lemme begin with this:
every truly self-respecting vegan spicy food enthusiast
has got their own custom tried-and-true take
on the classic original buffalo-style hot sauce.
for sure.
because butter and louisiana pepper sauce is good,
but really-real vegans can't just use margarine and call it good.
they have to have that freak-it-off freak'um sauce.
i'm being very serious.
rules is rules,
and the worthy ones all get busy with their own big buff business.
if they're claim they're spicy, vegan, and professionally appreciative of that new hottness,
yet they don't have their very own variation?
do NOT under any circumstances trust that mincey, minky, sneaky sunovab!tch,
because they ain't about that radical expert vegan life, b.
real talk.
your boy albie rock (that's me) continuously goes deep into the sauce.
in fact,
i'd go so far as to say that i'm preternaturally predisposed
to perpetual perfectionist performance of some powerful SAUCE MOVES.
i'm not even bragging, neighbors.
my buffzies are the TRUTH.
and y'know where a real display of savvy saucin' comes into play?
on the best complete perfect circle of LIFE,
a.k.a. a mutha-effing pee eye zee zee ayy.
buffalo pizza is the top-level-megaboss of the sauce game.
and if you can rock that, you're a verified official buffalord of the fire, man.
i actually made two pizzas, on two nights, with two different sauces,
just to flex hard,
show off how i hold somethin',
and provide a little big-timey pizza pie lovin' to my people.
that's right.
i get so tilty, and i go so hard that one buff style can't contain all my flavor.
check my pizza-proselytizing-type teleport:

i think i might be a magician.
that's a buffy-bottomed long proofed sourdough crust,
positively packed to the limit with fried buffalo seitan,
shredded celery, sliced red onion ring, sweet tomatoes, cilantro,
scallion sprankles, fried garlic sprankles,
AND homemade vegan ranch sauce.
y'wanna know about the SAUCE?
here's how it happened:

in a small sauce pot, heat up:
2/3 cup frank's red hot;
3 T sriracha;
2 T nutritional yeast;
2 T flour;
1 tsp ea Garlic Powder Onion Powder;
1/2 tsp black pepper;
1 tsp paprika;
1/4 tsp cayenne pepper;
3 T earth balance buttery spread...
it melts, and then it thickens, and then it gets niiiiiiiiice.
i spread half on the bottom like it was tomato sauce,
and i dumped the other half on some still hot seitan, to really pump-pump-pump it up!
and the seitan?
so much hot fire for your F*ing face.
hand tear some seitan into chick'n'ish hunks,
and dredge those wet slabs in a blend of:
3 T cornstarch;
1 tsp ea GPOP;
pink salt and black pepper;
1/4 tsp cayenne;
1 tsp paprika;
1/2 tsp ground mustard.
pan fry them until crispy in hot hot olive oil, and toss them with that sauce above^^.
that's some ferocious fuego, friends.
the rest is pretty straightforward,
although that pizza dough was on some NEXT LEVEL NEW NEW!
in your brand new stand mixer (or your old one),
3 cups flour;
1/2 cups warm water;
2 T sugar;
2 tsp salt;
1 tsp wheat gluten;
1/2 cup active sourdough starter;
1 T bread machine yeast.
( + flour for adding, and kneading, as needed)
pounded with that dough hook for eight minutes on low-low speed,
and rested for a preliminary rise for thirty minutes,
before being refrigerated all damned day, or two, or three-
this one was hand-stretched and baked at 480℉ convection,
but only after a 48 hour cold proof.
damn, duders... the crispy bubbly burliness was incomparable.
no joke, it might've been the best crust i've ever made.
and that was the dopium legitness even BEFORE i dipped that sh!t
in my homemade vegan ranch activation, son!
get a lil plastic container, and put this in it:
1/2 tsp dried parsley;
1/4 tsp dried dill;
dash of paprika;
1/2 tsp ea GPOP;
pink salt and black pepper;
crushed red pepper;
1 1/2 tsp apple cider vinegar;
2 T non-dairy milk;
1/2 cup vegan sour cream (i used tofutti because that's what's available around these parts);
1 large clove fresh crushed garlic.
legit, stir that up and refrigerate it in the morning,
and by pizza o'clock in the evening,
you'll wonder out loud why all these non-vegan A*-holes use dairy at all.
it's gross, it's bad for you and the planet, and it's downright cruel,
even though they only kill the boy calves,
and just incarcerate the females for a life of loveless parasitic teat-suckery.
y'all wrong for that.
sh!t, matter of fact- F* y'all milk using jerks.
yup. i said it. do somethin'.
the chee' wasn't milk based either, OBviously,
but the dairy-free blend of cheddar and mozzarella,
minced for maxxximum nmeltability,
was still daiya-nomite!
oh, cmon.
even with dad-puns intact, this pizza was ridiculously TIGHT.
huge flavor, high spiciness, magnificent diversity of texture,
and a high quotient of satisfaction from crust to cream....
that's how you do classic buffalo like a master blaster, bro.
if it doesn't go to eleven, it can go F* itself.
believe it.
the thing is,
the first night i had some buffalo jauns,
i went in a totally different direction,
but i still arrived on time and in full effect at luxurious deliciousville.
that's no joke.
buffalo was only one component of a larger more eclectic pizza,
but it was not one lick less expert.
believe it.
i do what i do, and i do it as hard as i can, man.
check the teleport:

crushed tomatoes, spinach, caramelized onion, sliced sweet baby grape tomatoes-
all of those things are good for pizza partying.
minced daiya mozzarella chee'? it might be the only way to go with carmies, man.
they're best friends.
fried garlic sprankles are mandatory, and it's been that way for years now.
a decree is a decree and there's no getting away from that, kiddo.
the thing is, the standout sexxxiness ab-so-LUTEly those florets of buffzly cauliism.
no question.
and the prep on 'em was a super-simple two-parter.
heat up a pan and sear some chopped cauliflower (about a cup and a half);
drizzle in a little bit of olive oil and salt, and give it  another couple minutes to brown a bit.
here's the key to successful doneness pre-oven-bake:
splash a spoonful of broth on 'em, and cover it for another 'nother minute.
NOW they're ready for a buffy blastoff into spiced nicey-niceness..
4 T vegan mayo;
1 T sriracha;
1/4 cup louisiana/texas cayenne pepper sauce;
1 clove crushed garlic;
1 tsp nootch;
black pepper;
1/4 tsp hot paprika.
so simple, so easy, so buffalicious
you'll wonder why you kept it at just two ingeredients
when clearly the depth and breadth of heroic yumminess
is activated to it's fullest by observing the path of the shark-glutton-
too much is the right amount, guys.
that's non-negotiable.
when you toss the cauliflower in this stuff, there will of course be exxxtra.
save it for drizzlin' over the top of the 'za'za post bake.
a little ho'ho' sauce up is always a good idea.
and then,
arugula and radicchio for some tart notes in with the tang and the sweet and the acidic tomato
and creamy chee' palette for your palate.
if you're not this committed to pizza,
maybe you need to examine yourself psychologically.
no. i mean it.
you might be stoopid if you can't comprehend this much seriously sorcerous sauciness.
i drank coffee.
and now, my heart might exxxplode.
i don't know what possessed me to sip on that stuff.
probably the coconutty nuance to the nose of it.
for realsies, a powerful bouquet will lure me in every time.
now i'm vibrating, and i look blurry to the casual observer,
as i buzz and hum at velocity,
waiting to munch up a bug ol' ginger-lemon muffin.
i'm wide away, and wide-open on some full-throttle caffeine jauns,
which has me headed into today like a runaway train.
it's all really happening, and there's NO telling where i'll end up.
hopefully, not in the hospital.
i'm too finely-calibrated to take this much high-test stress,
yet here we are, hurtling into the infinite unknown at nine in the morning;
never quiet, never soft......

Wednesday, February 21


honestly guys,
taco tuesday is sort of my thing.
it's not mandatory,
but, i mean, if you're unsure where to go with dinner,
and it's also tuesday-
y'don't have to look very far to conjure up a tight and tilty suppertime 'stravaganza.
for realsies.
now, with that being said,
and since kayla was gone for a couple of 'em-
she insisted that we get our soft flour fold-up on.
....and then,
in a predictably fickle fashion,
she actually opted to eat a grand total of zero F*ing tortillas,
and instead made a taco salad, sans chips or anything else.
which, i think, i just a salad, with taco fillings on top.
and that was after informing me that taco pizza was a no-go non-starter,
because it is the proprietary territory of mexican monday,
and therefore we were a day too late for it to be an option.
......a real warm welcome home, for sure.
whatever, neighbors.
i still brought the heat,
and we feasted on the sabor de expertismo like conquistadors.
or something like that.
check the teleport:

OLÉ and sh!t, man.
seitan asada never disappoints.
oregano, smoked paprika, GPOP, thyme, cayenne, cumin, and crushed coriander seed,
plus poblano, green bell, orange sweet, and jalapeno peppers,
sweet onions, minced garlic, lime, cilantro leaf, pink salt and black pepper.....
i prefer my homemade seitan to all others.
i don't know if i've slowly refined the recipe so well
that i am spoiled beyond open-mindedness and soiled and soured on storebought,
but MY from-scratch stuff is the TRUTH!
here's the >> recipe << again.
i did a thing with some sweet corn.
it's simple, but it's dope.
and sometimes, that's what we need.
corn, jalapeno, red onion, cilantro and scallion,
with black pepper, lime, and cayenne.
little salad pants loves corn.
who knew?
and then i was like "get that corn outta my face"....
buuut, i still made it anyway-
because when you know your audience, it's foolish not to make a crowd pleaser,
i'm sayin'.
the fresh veggie portion was right on it, as well.
crunchy cukes. firm paper-thin carrot slices. spicy radishes.
all dope.
bitter radicchio ribbons. cool cilantro leaves. sharp scallion sprankles.
all the stuff you know you need,
and all the stuff i knew i wouldn't feel good about omitting.
fresh rainbow baby sweet bell peppers are good.
pickled jalapenos, with full spicy heat, are better.
BOTH were invited to the party,
and was the hero of the day: AVO-F*ING-CADO.
that's my fave.
and when you top 'em off with some tag-team salsa fresca??
that's what's UP.
smashed sweet baby grape tomatoes,
cloves of crushed garlic, minced red onion, scallion greens,
chopped jalapeno, ripped cilantro, squeezed lime, salt and pepper.
simple. straightforward. magnificent.
it's hard not to like that stuff because it's rad AF.
taco tuesday.
or salad with sssexxxican sexxxellence on top.
it's what happened and it's what we needed.
wordimus prime.
lemon ginger.
how do i do that?
lemme know, bro.
i could use a suggestion if you've got one.
don;t be offended if i don't use it-
i'm pretty much a recalcitrant contrarian.
your ideas might stimulate me to come up with competitive ones of my own.
then again, who knows?
maybe you've got the inside insight,
and i'll have to give credit where it's due.
only one way to find out-
lemon ginger somethings.
what's up with that?
you tell me;
never quiet, never soft.....


cookie pie.
because cookies aren't always gonna be sexxxy enough on their own,
sometimes y'gotta make 'em much much bigger to be much much better.
that's real.
and cookie pie is a fan favorite around these parts, anyway,
so it's an easy win to make just one reallllllly large and in charge jaun,
and cut everybody a slice off that superior circle.
my favorite combo lately has been raspberries and chocolate.
i decided to keep that pairing going strong,
and put a whole mess of both in my most recent baked greatness.
it's pretty flippin' expert.
take a look for yourself:

that's a cutie, isn't it?
i know!
there's dried raspberries all over the place,
and they really turn the chocolate up to eleven, man.
i'm guessing it's the tartness of the fruit that activates the smooth richness
in those dark droplets of delight.
i don't know for certain why it works so well,
i'm just certain that it does.
there's nothing to it but to do it, and when it comes to doo-dooin' that kind of
burly, bigger-than-average, barbarian baked beauty,
i'm y'boi!
two kinds of frosting? of course.
too much is the right amount!
there are exxxtra chips and crushed berry sprankles on top too.
that's how it's done when it's done like a F*ing expert, kids.
believe it.
here's what i did; just in case you're ready to get into some of this grown-A* serious stuff.
preheat your oven to 375℉.
line a 9" cast iron pan with parchment paper.
in a medium mixing bowl, cream up the standard base:
1 stick (8T) vegan butterish;
1/2 tsp salt;
1 cup light brown sugar;
1 tsp vanilla;
stir in 1/2 cup unsweetened applesauce;
mix well, then add:
2 large handfuls (approx 1/2 cup?) crushed freeze-dried raspberries;
2 large handfuls mini dark chocolate chips;
2 1/4 cups flour;
1 tsp ea. baking powder and soda.
stir, then knead all that into a wet dough,
and press it into the lined pan.
i always leave a rim a little higher before baking-
it melds together without doming when you do that.
press a few MORE chips onto the top.
heck, press a bunch MORE on there.
chocolate is good for you, dude.
bake it for 25ish minutes,
or until the top looks goldenized a little tiny baby bit.
let it cool, or the next step will be a real bummer.
FROSTING a & b!!
in your trusty brand new cherry red valentine stand mixer, (oh, wait, that's just me)
1 stick softened vegan butter or 8 T tub butts;
3 cups powdered sugar;
1 tsp vanilla;
1/3 cup non-dairy milk.
that's whipped into the best frosting.
but if you add a teaspoon or two of powdered freeze dried berries into it?
you get the even betterest frosting, neighbors!
that's right.
vanilla and raspberry creamy dreams,
and then the exxxtra dusty spranks over that!
that's how you make the magic without even conjuring up a sweat.
real talk,
the thick, soft, rich, sweet crumble of this bad baby,
and the smooth, tart, fluffy forsting,
and the sharp berry zap of the crushed toppin' jauns are all working in unison to
really take the experience off the charts into some stratospheric orbital awesome times.
that's a thing.
cookies are great,
but whole days of drawn-on tattoos are even better.
AMPERSAND TATTOO is ready to make you unique in ways you previously were not.
seriously though-
i've had stacks on stacks of dudes,
but they best ones are getting custom one-off one-shot hot spots,
courtesy of me and my marky markers.
the weirdest part?
they're not even the tax return clients, yet.
i know! that's crazy.
these guys are spending their own regularly-hard-earned movie checks
on some one-of-a-kind marky makey artsy zipzaps.
i love it,
and i'm savoring every second before the rank-and-file doo-doo butter returns.
i'm not too good to do anything.
that's gross.
i also don't necessarily like everything that comes through the door, either.
sure, there's compensation for all of it.
does that mean i can't have preferences?
of course not.
and while the internet has provided thousands of local ladies with their own unique tattoo
ideas, that just happen to be identical in every way to each other,
some of the more creative types are getting the bigger and better ones,
and we're co-creating them as a tandem tag-team of artistic expressionists.
that's a lot more rewarding for all of us.
we've still got plenty of banal, budget, bummers in stock, though,
so don't feel like we can accommodate you if you're lame.
in fact,
we'd love to see you, so stop on in and get some fresh, hot, tasty tattz if you're up for it;
never quiet, never soft..... 

Tuesday, February 20


activated charcoal from coconut.
y'know the stuff?
people are brushing their teeth with it.
it's superfine exxxtra-dusty dark black burnt stuff,
and it doesn't taste like anything, really.
it does turn frosting a weird blue-grey though, and that's pretty cool.
no, but, really, it looks good.
i went in on another 'nother single layer cake for the second day in a row,
only this new hottness was a coconut overload.
check it out:
SO MUCH COCONUT!'s almost more than you need, 
only too much is the right amount, and that's a fact.
there's coconut all up in it to win it,
and somehow, it's still soft and moist.
that's expert.
i'm going to tell you what's what, and if you're so inclined,
you can make one of your very own.
here goes:
preheat your oven to 350℉ convection-style.
in a medium mixing bowl, thoroughly combine:
1 stick (8T) vegan earth balance butter substitute;
1/2 tsp salt.
1 tsp vanilla.
1 tsp coconut extract;
2/3 cup demerara sugar;
1/2 cup medium flake unsweetened coconut.
stir in 2/3 coconut yogurt, and mix well-
1 cup coconut flour;
1 cup flour;
1 tsp bakey soda;
1 1/2 tsp bakey powder;
1 cup coconut milk (the carton kind) or any other non-dairy milk.
mix until combined, and chunky, and thick.
spoon it evenly into your reliably awesome single layer 9" springform pan,
and bake for 35 minutes, or until golden af...
then, y'gotta ice it up like trap rap.
activated charcoal added to an already very tasty coconut-packed frosting attack
is basically an exxxplosion of aesthetic excellence.
i mean,
two-tone double coconut swirls??
AND flaky sprankles???
that's that oh-my-gooooooodness good-good, you guys.
for serious.
reppin' on one thematic flavor, 
extrapolated in several forms,
to build complex layers of taste and texture?
all in a one-story stack of packed powerful palm-seed sexxxiness?
F* yeah, man.
that's IT, and i doo-doo that freaky sh!t.
girl is home. that's good.
weather is warm. that's good.
tattoos are scheduled. that's good.
rain is falling......and that's something.
it's ALL really happening,
but that rain's not cool, 
because all the remaining ice is slick as heck.
i'll be carefully half-steppin' with crabtree through the ice-floes 
and luge tracks that compose
the defrosting dog-walk route.
i'm confident i'll take the gold,
but there's always the chance that vacation week 
second-homers could complicate the journey.
it's forever those out-of-town clowns that wreck the routine, neighbors.
let's hope that the rain keeps them in, 
while it keeps me watchin' where i step.
i can live with looking lame 
as long as i'm not also looking at some dude who doesn't say hello,
jogging past to tempt the terrier as some sort of bait....
nobody likes that.
i s'pose we'll have to wait and see;
never quiet, never soft.....

Monday, February 19


the snow day got me.
it did.
like, it got me with the anything can happen clause,
and it was a real drive-thru situation, y'know?
oh yeah, that's SO a thing.
(they F* you in the drive thru, man.)
and just so we're all on the same page here:
ANYthing doesn't imply that it's only good stuff we're getting for options,
far from it-
while at first i had high hopes that i was gonna get a magical mystical monumental
sentimental spectacle reunion and reignition after a prolonged and unwelcome absence....
secret universal beta testing came into play,
and instead of an effortless ,
it was pretty much what i've come to understand is a perpetual test of my mettle
and my resolve to solve choose-your-own adventure times with reason.
i had to pull out my big-boy work pants,
and activate my oft-overlooked clear-headed responsible adult behavior;
the implementation of P.M.A. as a liaison between disappointment and disgust;
and yet another 'nother opportunity already for my year of the dog resolution
to be put to work in a practical application.
composure was called for in the face of MORE missed flights,
deferred fights for being always right;
delayed departures,
and late night rendezvous after midnight, and therefore technically
a whole 'nother 'nother exxxtra day longer apart.
that was some worst-coast poorly-planned-and-chosen underinformed bullsh!t.
if you read my prediction yesterday,  then let's give some shoutouts to the $3 rule.
if you know, you know.
and if i had a buck for every time my distrust and skepticism
were proven incorrect and unwarranted?
well, you see where i'm going.....
on the brighter side,
everything and everyone is back where they belong-
2 am returns are still returns, and we do what we mus to get what we want, right?.
the thing is,
i made a very specific treat,
in the faint hope that events would unfold in sublime alignment,
and we could enjoy a custom-tailored favorite flavor profile and smile away the evening.
that wasn't how it went down,
but holy sh!t, me and the crew over at AMPERSAND TATTOO took down 80%
of that 111% expert ginger on ginger cake.
waste not, and wait not, and waist knot.
check the teleport:

hahaha. that's the truth, buddy.
ginger in a cake is pretty tight.
but the subtle secret savory undertones that came for a teabag of turmeric ginger tea,
courtesy of trader joe's,
really took the taste to eleven+.
guys, on the ones,
this cake was the saving grace for an unsavory day of doo-doo buttery complications.
you wanna know how to make one for yourself?
it's pretty simple, really.
here's all you've gotta do:
preheat your oven to 350 (convection of course, if you're nasty)
in a medium mixing bowl,
cream up:
1/2 cup demerara sugar;
1 tsp vanilla;
1 T ground dried ginger;
1/2 tsp cinnamon;
1/2 tsp salt;
1 stick (8T) vegan butter;
1 T fresh grated ginger.
next, stir in
2 T molasses;
2/3 cup non-dairy yogurt;
and the contents of 1 opened turmeric ginger teabag-
the very delicate notes of orange peel and black pepper are tip-top-notch, nerds,
and if you think for a second that that sounds bad, you're dead wrong.
mix well, and sift in:
2 cups flour;
1 tsp ea. bakey powpow and soda;
and add 2 T minced candied ginger.
quickly fold in 1 cup non-dairy milk,
and add the muddy contents to a greased 9" springform pan/.
kids, i know i eff with single layer cakes a LOT,
but, i also make and eat a LOT of cakes,
so bear with me on the short stacks of everyday gourmet cake time. ok?
bake it for 35 minutes,
and let that bad mama-jamma cool on a wire rack.
y'see how i have two kinds of decorative sugary icing and frosting on there?
that's because i was excited as hell to share this tasty piece with my tasty piece.
and also because too much is the right amount.
cinnaginger icing has four ingredients.
cinnamon, ginger, powdered sugar, and water.
the creamchee' frosting has five.
butterish, not-creamchee', powdered sugar; vanilla, and non-dairy milk.
when you've got an almost ginberbread/almost carrotcake sponging around
in all of it's buttery glory,
y'can't wait for stragglers... if they're late, they're beat.
if you snooze you lose, and once you've snozt, you've lost, bro.
that goes for anyone, and everyone.
rules is rules.
i'm not a piece of sh!t, kids.
i saved a hunk for my honeybun,
and maybe she'll get a slice.
or, maybe i'll munch it down this morning.
it's not a snow day,
but i'm pretty sure that on presidents' day ANYthing can happen, too.
i mean, just look at the president.
i'm ready to span a little time in comfortably close quarters;
i'm ready to stoke embers into infernos;
i'm ready to see what sort of fondness this absence has germinated;
i'm ready for whatever, now that i'm not night-riding and waiting.
the day will surely drag, the jetlag will totally add to it,
and somewhere in the middle, or maybe, with any luck at all, at least by the end of it,
we'll get a real moment to breathe in and out,
and soak up the solace of a face-to-face embrace....
if nothing else,
i'm going to bring the BOOMFIRE to suppertime,
so i'm not going to bed disappointed in the whole day no matter what.
P.M.A. means making opportunities for yourself,
and making the most of opportunities as the pop up.
it's ALL really happening,
and i'm grateful for whatever's next;
never quiet, never soft.....

Sunday, February 18


it was sort of warm outside yesterday,
but today it's a snow day.
that means that the drop in temperature really just created opportunities.
man, c'mon,
rules is rules- and on a snow day anything can happen.
so i'll add another layer of clothes to my bendy bandy body when i dress for success,
and then i'll forge a new path into the future with the realm of possibilty open before me.
and all because of a little wintry precipitation.
i'm cool with that.
i've got dudes on dudes to tattoo, with trucks and cover-ups;
and lovely vacation lady walk-ins to turn away all day while i'm working on those XYs,
with that accent heavy on the whY...
(because movie checks, bro. a grand don't come for free)
today is that day,
and i feel good about it.
i even went to bed early.
i did.
i was asleep by 11, neighbors; which does not GO to eleven, btw.
sure i still was awake way before sunrise, but that's sort of my thing.
there's no point in stockpiling sleep, you don't have much to show when you're done.
before i head out into the freshly fallen and gently driven powder
covering the whole of the woodsly goodness,
i'd like to say a little something about compulsion, obligation, and determination.
sometimes, i couldn't give any less of a sh!t about cooking.
that's right.
i just don't F*ing feel like it.
except, i still do it.
y'get it?
like, i have to.
i've mentioned this many times, but i don't think it's possible to overstate it,
anymore than it's possible to circumnavigate the urge to make things.
if only my obsessive infinite nature wasn't the overriding determining factor
in all of my daily routine, i could've maybe skipped a day somewhere.
it's been a loooooong time since i didn't have something delicious to show
for every. single. flippin'. day.
i didn't do much in the way of cooking in the morning-
though i did bake a couple of loaves of sourdough, but that's different.
so, by nightfall, after an excruciating day of tedious, tiresome tattooing,
while tired and downtrodden,
i came home with no intention of doing anything.
it was a free day. the first break in the cycle. the first step in taking it easy on myself.
...and then i started cooking.
awwwww man.
check the teleport:

it's sort of gumbo, but without fish, obvi.
and it's sort of jambalaya, but without the rice.
the seasoning is on point;
the mirepoix is deluxxxe;
the sausagishes are tight;
the tofu was a wild card, but it worked.
i mean, it's not exactly going to overpower anything, y'feel me?
word up.
and the sourdough dippin' slices?
fresh baked in the morning, and soft, supple, and super-spongy in the evening?
c'mon, kids-
good bread makes better people,
and great bread is what you dip in your chili.
that's no joke.
i'll give you the rundown, and you decide where to take it from there:
in a big saucepot (the shallow kind)
saute in 3 T olive oil:
1 sweet onion;
1/4 cup scallion midsections (the thick greenish whitish part);
1 diced green bell pepper;
2 stalks chopped celery;
1 bias-cut and halved carrot;
3 cloves crushed garlic.
when they soften somewhat,
add in:
GPOP; 1 tsp oregano; 1 tsp thyme; 1/2 tsp rubbed sage; 2 bay leaves; 1/2 tsp ground mustard;
1/2 tsp cayenne pepper; pink salt and black pepper, heavy on the fresh-crack'd black peps;
1 tsp red pepper flakes;
allow those to fully bloom, then drip in:
3 T green sriracha;
1 T red wine vinegar;
3 shakes liquid smoke;
1 cup chopped baby sweet grape tomatoes;
1 can (15 oz.) small red/colorado beans.
let that all marry for a moment,
then pour in 1 cup vegetable broth;
1 handful of minced parsley;
1 small punch of cilantro;
1 punch of scallion;
1/4 cup rainbow sweet baby bell pepper;
2 T pickled jalapeno;
one large handful baby spinach.
that'll boil for five-ten minutes, then simmer while you sear your tofu and sausagishes.
one homemade vegan seitan sausage, slivered,
and one quarter block of cubed tofu, sizzled on all sides in olive oil,
and tossed on top with plenty more scallions,
and a few slices of that expert AF bread.
just like that,
you're the hero of the evening.
if you're me, you've just averted the anxiety attack of incompletion.
damn, dudes, i make it out of self-imposed obligations to my infinite self,
but damn damn damn, dudes, i never regret it when it hits my palate.
this sh!t is DOPE.
it's crazy how much pressure dissipates into nothing
as soon as the finished product hits my tongue, and that rich deliciousness activates
the reward receptors everywhere in my brain, and my mouth, and my guts.
it's never not worth the effort once the effort is over.
there's something to that, and i'm sticking with it.
there will never be a good enough reason to take the easy way,
even with something as unlucrative as the daily documentation of my culinary creations
that may seem stupid to the self-care means-doing-nothing-sometimes crowd-
but too much is the right amount.
and nobody ever got more awesome by doing nothing.
if y'all ain't making anything, you're kind of  a bummer.
today is not just a snow day.
it's bigger than that.
it's better than that.
it's a homecoming, and if things go well,
it'll be one heck of a reuniting and igniting of the hot fire,
with heart-shaped hugs and kisses, x's and a LOT of o's...
unless another 'nother bullsh!t last-minute plan-change occurs,
today is the day that kayla returns to the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress.
after being absent, and farther and further across the country in increasing increments
for all of february thus far,
(....which, for the record, without her company, seemed like a long, lonely year,
rather than the first half of the shortest month)
she's coming home to the snowy, wet woodsly goodness.
strangely enough,
weeks and weeks' worth of a return to my solo hermitage,
with only crabtree accompanying/hindering my efforts,
was so damned familiar, if unwelcome,
that i easily assimilated back into my old mode.
really, there's always so much to do that there wasn't enough time to dwell on the
lonely aspects of living singly in a haunted mansion.
i still had a shop to run, a dog to walk, cakes to bake, paintings to brush up on,
books to read, words to write, stories to tell,
and epic efforts in all aspects of every day's active participatory really real life
that demanded and commanded and commandeered my attentions-
my affections remained with my insightful and delightful,
funny, endearing, engaging, enraging adorable doll of a partner.
i have hours and hours to wait, yet.
and a whole exxxtra other 'nother half a day of surprise plan-changes popped up
to further postpone the reunion.
(is it still considered a surprise if it happens often?)
unless this snow day really takes a plot-twisting off-script ad libitum lunge towards
effing up my sh!t with even MORE layovers and delays.....
the warm embrace and beauteous face of my compañera will brighten my night,
and we'll be together like we're s'posed to be.
i'm hopeful,
but i have a healthy respect for the unpredictability of both a snow day
and the secret universal untranslatable diagrammatical blueprints.
it's ALL really happening.
we just might need a little distance to gain advantageous vantage,
a little elevation to improve perspective,.
and some time to decipher what we're looking at.
i'm ready to see somethin', and i'm on the lookout for the big arrival;
never quiet, never soft.....

Saturday, February 17


tax season is upon us.
everybody who got an early return,
which is to say most of the local populace, who otherwise live paycheck to paycheck,
have been reimbursed, with their own money,
are currently strong in the wallet,
so they are doing everything they can to change that as quickly as possible.
i can totally help with that.
because if there's one thing i like,
it's making those sweet moolah movie checks.
so, i'm busy busy, and that's good news.
i'm tattooing almost exclusively dudes with very dudelike ideas for the next week.
if there's anybody out there who doesn't have male genitals,
and also wants a cool tattoo,
i'd love to hear from you.
just sayin': i'm grateful for what i'm getting, but it's not all i want to have.
tax season.
i haven't gotten a return in forever, so i like to think of theirs as partially mine.
i give 'em the zipzaps, and those help me pay my fair share.
last night was cold and windy, and that's always a bummer.
wind ranks least among weather for y'boi,
and i can't hang out with gusts and gales for anything.
so, it was a night IN, with crabtree,
and we made some serious dinner jauns,
in honor of the year of the dog.
he got carrot, and banana, and calcium-rich yogurt for his face,
and i got dumps all over mine.
check the teleport:

sesame sossamon tofu, with broccoli, in garlic sauce!!!
and those boomfire dumplestiltskins, too!
what a satisfying supper.
the tofu was thin-cut.
like, one half block, in thirds and quarters, to make twelve triangles.
seared on each side i sesame oil, and covered in toasted sesame seeds
to really activate the flavor of the thing.
there's grilled cabbage, and broccoli, with just a little oil,
and a clove of sliced garlic,
covered in some serious sauce-
4 T soy sauce;
4 T rice wine vinegar;
1 T agave;
1 tsp sugar;
1 tsp GPOP;
1/4 tsp ground mustard;
3 cloves crushed garlic;
1/4 tsp ground black pepper;
1/4 tsp ground sichuan peppercorn;
4 dried red chilis;
1/4 tsp cayenne;
1 T non-GNO organic cornstarch.
could that be simpler?
with some rice,
and some scallions, and cilantro sprankles, too??
i know what's good, and i know what's not.
this is that good-good.
for realsies.
really, though, it's all about the dumplings.
dumps are the TRUTH,
and red oil is the FIRE .
in a mixing bowl, combine:
1 cup flour;
1/4 tsp salt;
1/3 cup + 1 T warm water.
knead it for five full minutes, and rest it for fifteen.
the sequence is as foolows:
roll it cut it, fill it crimp it, fold it, rest it, and boil them until they float.
-remove them with a spider, and coat them in that luscious red oil.
1/4 tsp black pepper;
1/4 tsp sichaun pepper;
1/2 tsp red pepper flakes;
1/4 tsp hot paprika;
1/4 tsp cayenne;
1 clove crushed garlic;
1 tsp sesame oil;
2 T garlic oil;
1/2 tsp paprika.
stir it well, and get ready to fall in love with flavor, neighbors.
in a hot pan, with 2 tsp sesame oil,
saute 1/4 minced sweet onion, and 1 bunch green onion bottoms;
3 cloves chopped garlic;
2 tsp minced skin-on organic ginger;
1 1/2 cups homemade seitan, shredded.
add a splash of soy, black pepper, and a dash of rice vinegar,
and when it's all browned,
add the scallion green in and let it all cool.
hot filling totally F*sup dumplings, dudes.
that's no joke.
but cool filling is the hottness, so be advised, and act accordingly-
i'm ready for a long day of burly up-north bearded barbarians.
i've got a whole day of guys who do especially manly stuff alllllll the time.
we'll have lots to talk about, i'm sure.
the thing is,
they're great clients.
for real.
it's just harder to get excited for ultra-woodsman day on zero sleep.
i'm tired af after a loooong night wondering and worrying
and generally being both suspicious and angry in alternating tsunami waves
of incredible disappointment in myself.
...and we all know that after a few hours of that,
there's no turning back.
y'ever get mad about something you know you can't do anything about?
at least, not in that moment, but you still just can't let it go?
so instead you dwell, and steep, and stew in discontent, resentment, and vitriol,
until you're so bitter, and sour, and pressurized with pent-up frustration
and powerlessness that might just burst a seam,
and spew your rotten, twisted guts out all over the floor,
where they'll writhe and roil and boil and sizzle and dissolve down into the earth
as if they're alive with snakes of pure acid?
damn, dudes- you diiiiiiid?
jeez, that's probably pretty bad for you.
don't do that.
seriously, what are you?
that's not healthy, buddy.
i mean, i'm not saying that wasn't me,
i'm just saying i'd hoped i was alone in that,
since it feels so flipping awful i'd hate to have that experience in common with anybody else.
the specifics are almost never important.
the symptoms always stem form the same cause-
knowing better but not doing better which means not getting any better-
and that's a waste of time..
ok, so in the future, how do we avoid that?
besides just being all alone always?
well, man, i don't know either.
but if you get any inside info, pass it along.
i'll be sure to do the same;
never quiet, never soft.....


it's the year of the dog.
although, this and every other morning seems to be all about the dog, anyway.
this time, it's official.
now, every year on the lunar flip-up-and-over
i wanna make some sort of vaguely asian treat for the big day.
and, every year, i do that.
they're getting better, slowly but surely-
it's just that once a yearly practice hardly makes for perfection.
at any rate,
to celebrate the new moon, and lunar new year, i made some cookies,
and a nother 'nother resolution.
P.M.A. is a great focus to strive for in for 2018.
i mean, c'mon-
a Positive Mental Attitude should, if properly applied,
lift you up out of whatever bummer situation you're in.
it doesn't fix it.
but, proactive affirmative motion is progress,
and progress moves forward,
and as forward momentum builds, those bummers get left behind.
that's why we got that P.M.A. ...ALL DAY.
but it's not enough.
just to reinforce my mantra:
too much is the right amount,
i'm also adding a whole exxxtra element to my perpetual quest for self-improvement.
you have any idea how tough it gets trying to keep my composure?
for real.
can i take it to eleven all the time, and not get lost in the sauce?
can i state an informed opinion calmly from start to finish? (probably not)
can i feel things deeply and not let them upend and upset the delicate
and finely-calibrated balance between thoughts and actions?
i don'y knowwwwwwwww.
but, i've got to try to keep my composure.
runaway train was a terrible soul asylum song,
a cliché movie premise,
and an apt description of my emotional acceleration from initial idea
to stormswept cyclone somewhere around the second spoken sentence.
it's not an ideal model for socializing.
composure, man.
in the face of those few things that actually matter,
and in the midst of all the things that actually don't.
i think it's going to be hard, but i also think it'll be worth a lot more than the effort.
i also made some cookies,
which were such a bummer at first that i had to mess with the recipe a LOT
just to make something any good at the end.
....i hope that's not some kind of a harbinger.
then again, i stuck with it, and made it happen.
shoutouts to that P.M.A. right now, and for the rest of this dog year, too.
y'wanna see 'em?
i wanna show you.

we got coin-ish ones,
we got medallions with powdered sugar dog symbols,
and we got iced ingots with sossamon sprankles!
that's what's up, bro.
i'm not even going to get into the recipe-
i effed with it so much that i doubt i could even estimate what's what
or how much of it there was.
there is rice flour, and peanut butter, and tons sesame seeds,
coconut oil, vegan butter, sugar, agave, non-dairy milk, white flour, xantham gum,
salt, and sadness.
they tasted fantastic,
but they took forever to finally become something i could work with.
i hate when that happens,
but i looooved these cookies.
figures the tastiest sesame treats so far are the most mysterious, too.
i s'pose next year, i'll be starting from scratch again.
year of the dog, dudes.
the year of the flippin' dog.
and that's no joke.
i have a sneaky suspicion that crabtree and i
are going to spend even more time together as this year progresses.
he may be a deaf, dumb, self-destructive cannonball shark-bullet battle-beast,
but he's pretty reliable, and dependable,
so long as you're depending on him to be sort of a distraction.
the thing of it is,
he's always a distraction in the exact same ways.
so, that's pretty staid and steady, and predictability isn't a bad trait,
because we can anticipate the likely outcome every time....
that works for people too.
creatures of (bad)habits can be relied on to be unreliable.
i'm completely unimpressed by most people more often than not.

and while he's a whiny little side-eyed instigator,
i'm also pretty sure that that counts as communication, inasmuch as he's interested
and capable of such interpersonal interaction.
he's not sayin' anything i wanna discuss, but he's not NOT telling me what he wants.
stating your needs is kind of in the top five topics for being satisfied in any relationship, right?
so shoutouts to crabtree for being better at hanging out than most of us.
it's the year of the dog, neighbors.
and dogs do what dogs do-
their infinite nature is pretty open and up front.
if he sees or even smells a roadside mud-clot half-eaten sandwich?
he's gonna go for it.
nature wins,
and he can't help himself from helping himself to a helping of hurt.
literally, he is incapable of choosing otherwise.
even though the consequences are considerable, and long-lasting.
he cannot reason, and therefore he cannot be trusted.
sort of like some other folks i know.
ohhhhhhhhhh sh!t!
is that passive aggressive?
but, and i'll say it again, this isn't actually a food blog-
it's a real life documentarian dissertation of true stories of woodsly goodness.
moving on,
it's the year of the dog, not the year of the lil b!tch,
and thus i am unsure what to what level the limits of tolerance there should be
for those who are capable of comprehension and still choose to be a real bummer.
i mean, it stands to reason that if we can reason,
then there's no reason for it.
not for doing it,
and there's even less of a reason to accept it.
if you're no better than a dog, but also, like, not any better than a dog,
but also, NOT a dog-
i have to ask?
what. the. F*. is wrong. with. you?
is it a cynic's life you're living?
like, the old-school greek-style jauns?
i doubt that, although that was a tight dog reference, for the two people who get it.
it's the year of the dog.
it's an eleven year.
and it's all really happening.
so, where my dogs at?
and what's up with faithful friends?
what's poppin' with loyal companions?
where's the trust?
where's the communication?
and how does it get so tough, so quickly?
i love my people,
and i love my baby bully boy,
but in an instant-
in one decision, one choice, one action,
it flips to something else so HARD i hardly recognize myself.
keeping one's composure starts there, and starts now;
never quiet, never soft.....

Friday, February 16


2018 is already an eleven year.
yeah, that's a thing.
2+0+1+8= 11.
y'get it?
c'mon- y'got it.
today is also THE day,
and now, with a new moon blackout keeping the skies dark,
it's also officially the year of the DOG (again)!
so shoutouts to DarkMan X, a.k.a. the dog; also known as earl simmons,
for providing the soundtrack to the workday, for sure.
it's happening.
the TÊT, bro.
lunar new year.
the new hottness.
and today is when it pops off.
what's good?
i've got a whole mess of sesame seeds toasted up,
and i've got a whole lotta fresh from-scratch seitan ready for red oil,
and i've also, and this one is key here, got a F*ing DOG.
as far as i'm concerned, today is crabtree appreciation day.
and very proud we all always are of that terrible terrorizing milky boi.
it's the year of the dog, dudes.
rules is rules.
meanwhile, independent of any celestial timekeeping,
i burned an embarrassing mountain of hoarded paper bags last night.
i did.
i looked into a long-forgotten pantry, and discovered a whole world of
weird sh!t i must've stashed in there years ago.
but, the days of stockpiling stupid stuff are over,
and the nights of burning it all to ash have just begun.
i think it might've all the chick peas pumping me full of raw berserker power?
is that something that happens?
i dunno.
it might be.
i was all hopped-up on curry,
and spicy chicky peepee might've pushed me over the edge.
check the teleport:

shouts to chana saag, son!
what's in it?
i'll tell you: chickpeas (chana) and spinach (saag).
more specifically?
i mean, that's pretty specific, man.
you wanna know how to make it on your own....
it's like this:
in a big ol' pan, warm up 3 T vegan earth balance butter,
and saute, on medium high heat-
1/2 diced onion;
3 cloves garlic;
when the onion gets a little translucent, add:
1/2 cup chopped tomato;
2 tsp minced skin-on organic ginger;
1 tsp turmeric;
1/4 tsp black pepper; cinnamon; hot paprika; cardamon;
1/2 tsp coriander seed; cumin; cayenne; mustard seed;
next, stir in:
1 can 15oz rinsed chick peas;
drizzle in:
2 T hotsauce;
1 habanero;
1 jalapeno;
1/2 cup water.
lid it, and let it absorb all that liquid,
then add a sh!t ton of chopped spinach.
i rep the baby-leaf stuff because it's already bite-sized,
but big-big real spinach is totally just as good.
have you ever made rice?
ok. well, do that, too.
but, leave room for some roti-style flatbread, neighbors.
a scoopie scooper of bread is tight at all times,
and i recommend it highly-
1/2 cup flour;
1/4 tsp salt;
1/2 tsp bakey powpow;
2 tsp non-dairy yogurt;
1 tsp melted butterish;
2 T warm water.
knead it, rest it, shape it, and give it a good, thorough pan fry on a HOT skillet, pan, griddle, or whatever.
just be sure to toast both sides.
the next step is setting yourself up for suppertime success.
jalapeno, cilantro, lime, scallion sprankles, and coolwater cukes for crunch!!!!
that's expert.
but when you add a dollop of unsweetened cashew yogurt to the mix?
that's that eleven-year sh!t i mentioned earlier for sure.
yeah, i ate a whole heap of it.
yeah, i had seconds.
yeah, i was very happy with the results of my decisions.
too much is the right amount, buddy.
don't forget that.
and now it's the other other new year.
looks like it's time to take a few dumps on my face.
i think that's more than fair.
after all,
i bombarded all y'all with heart-shaped cake for weeks,
and here i am,
all by my lonesome,
ready and willing to dump 'em out,
for freelookfriday,
and there's no damned dirty doggies to dig in with.
except crabtree, but the i'd have to make it gluten/onion/garlic/soy free.
these upscale luxury purebreed dudes come with a lot of complications.
i'm not saying i mind,
i'm saying i don't have a dumpling team assembled for this evening.
i'll live.
after all,
it's still crabtree appreciation day, even if he and i are having separate meals.
TÊT is here, and it's all really happening...
another dark night rises,
and i guess the temperature is set to drop over forty fahrenheit degrees, too.
nature wins, and dogs do what dogs do.
i guess that's the theme for today;
never quiet, never soft.....

Thursday, February 15


i had dennis, dylan, AND ian,
plus my new homie marcus,
a few consultations,
a client with a looong tattoo appointment, and her friends,
all hanging out all day at AMPERSAND TATTOO.
and y'know what?
it was F*ing awesome.
the warm-hearted avocado-hued fresh-to-death just-be-dope-imbued hotspot
for competent and capable creation, communication, and cooperation
really seemed to be firing on all cylinders, whatever that means.
it was good.
and i was grateful.
valentine's day with people i care about is a decent silver medal, i s'pose.
although, you still won't catch me giving any sh!ts about the olympics.
that's not my area, kids.
do y'wanna know what IS my boomfire specialty though?
go ahead- guess....
did you just say pizza?
damn, dudes, you really DO know me pretty well.
i saiiiiiiiiid: PEE EYE ZEE ZEE AYY!!!
and there ain't no party like a vegan pizza party,
because a vegan pizza party, in a drug-free household,
with only my buddy ian, and crabtree the dog around,
is basically no party,
but rather a heroic, platonic, hetero-shark-gluttonous feeding-frenzy.
i still went hard on the cute sh!t, because valentine's day is good for you.

that's my semi-semolina standard,
upgraded and activated with half a cup of very active sourdough starter,
and really proofed like the troof from the floor to the roof.
wordimus prime.
it rose like a phoenix in the hot oven, bro.
thickness is key to good sourdough pizza crust.
it gets crackery if it's too thin.
lucky for me,
i enjoy crawnch as much as the next guy,
so that circle pizza was doing just fine.
i'll take an exxxtra pie for my face anytime.
i think you're not fully aware about the exxxcitement that is required right now-

...because obviously i heart pizza.
and even the fresh from-scratch-made sausageronis were cut into hearts.
that's what you DO, if you're a hopeless romantic,
and a mandatory celebrant of sentimentality.
my absentee affectionada, kayla, was sorely missed,
and also, she sorta seems to have missed out.
but then again,
i'm in an icy arctic winterscape,
and she's F*ing around in sunny southern california.
(if you'd had a slice of this, though, i think you'd have agreed
that i actually am doing pretty great, all things considered)
the thing of it is,
i made that heart pretty big.
and the sausages, in order to be cut into hearts, were also pretty big.
so, it was a large pizza.
of course, that's NOT a problem.
too much is the right amount,
which is never more true than when referring to radical expert vegan pizza.
real talk.
there's crushed tomatoes, followed by slow-cooked thin-sliced caramelized onions,
daiya mozzarella chee', baby bella mushroom slices,
and that elite 'roni....
naturally, there are fried garlic sprankles all over it.
i mean. c'mon, kiddo-
rules IS rules.
tell you what-
the dough recipe, which can be found here, when improved with the sourdough starter,
has a depth of flavor i appreciated to my core,
and then enoyed more and more with every slice.
the mushrooms were subtle, 0% slimy, 100% rich in flavor,
and totally invigorating my nutrient receptors.
that last part is an assumption.
the onions are forever the best. carmies have the pizza essence dialed in,
and anyone who says otherwise is misinformed, and very likely a F*ing sociopath.
avoid them at all costs.
i've said it before, but i believe in reinforcement through repetition:
chop up your daiya chee' shreds. i'm not playin'. do it.
you'll be so grateful when the ooey gooey meltiness is increased by mathematical margins.
the arugula was a good call, y'all.
just sayin', it looks like the sexxxiness, and it tastes like the sexxxiness,
and pizza with the sexxed-up presentation counts for double-points...
and then i freaked it off on this classic jaun:

and also baby sweet tomatoes and arugula and fried garlic spranksies,
plus crushed tomatoes and that mincey little daiya...
all the sausage pieces around the heart cut-outs were crumbled, fried, and spread around this
littler thinny-thin-thin skin of sourdough circularity.
the brussels sprouts were braised in broth,
and seared in a skillet, and they always melt in your mouth after a 480℉ convection cycle.
the tomatoes get soft, but not mushy, whereas the onions get almost ethereal in the oven.
i LOVE pizza, and i could eat it every single day.
heck, who knows, i may just call an audible on the field,
and declare sometime soon a pizza week.
don't think for a second that's out of the realm of possibilities.
when it comes to pizza partying: what-what say-what-say-what?
ANYthing could happen.
and that's no joke.
now that valentine's day has come and gone,
the rest of this month is basically bullsh!t.
its still cold, and will be for some time.
it's getting lighter, but not enough to do nighttime things that are any good.
school vacations begin tomorrow,
so this whole area is about to get flooded with A*bags and d!ckturds from away,
who'll clog and congest and infest every restaurant gas station coffee shop
and grocery store for the next couple of weeks.
just in time to continue this februarian tradition of hard styles.
i'm doing two and half weeks without my sweetheart,
and i'll do two more with bitter buttfaces taking up all the peace and quiet.
it's a study in extremes,
and i'm extremely unimpressed;
never quiet, never soft.....