Saturday, December 3


cinnamon rolls are rad.
that's real.
i like to get into some of that cinnamon sugary gooey goodness
for breakfast, and maybe again for lunch,
and if, somehow, somethin' is left over?
i bet i'll be read to wreck those jauns before supper, too.
i think cinnamon rolls are the big action.
i don't always want the old standby standard, y'feel me?
i mean it.
i get an urge to freak it off,
and turn it up,
and get expert on some of that new-new.
i made some of the new hottness,
and i'm very happy to report that it was the biggest action i've baked in a bit.
check the choco-p.b-type teleport:

word up.
standard cinnamon activation was in full effect-
that's 3 cups of flour;
a pinch of gluten;
1/4 cup of sugar;
1 tsp vanilla;
1 cup non-dairy milk + half a stick of butts, warmed and melted together;
1 pkg regular yeast;
2 tsp fast bread-machine yeast;
kneaded for five and rested for ten,
then rolled flat into a rectangle.
awaiting the gooey glops of great taste and terrific texture headed towards your face.
you spread organic gritty smooth peanut butter down on the dough,
you flesh it out with a cinnamon-sugary regular-A* middle mixture
that's this:
a cup of brown sugar;
a big blast of cinnamon;
and dashes of nutmeg and ginger;
plus 4-5 T butts;
and a drizz' of vanilla.
creamed together and spread heavy.
i happened to have half a pastry bag of very rich chocolate frosting,
so i put three triple width stripes evenly across in lengthwise sections.
it all got rolled up,
and imprtantly, it also got refrigerated for ten minutes
before being cut up into a dozen spirals of pure sexxxiness.
all of those went in a square pan, lightly greased and gently floured,
in a 375F oven, for 25 minutes.
what went in was wonderful,
but what came out was the TRUTH!!!!
did i double glaze 'em?
oh, c'mon.
is too much the right amount?
is rules rules?
is one glaze enough?
dont be foolish.
of course i brought the two-tone triumph to the top.
vanilla icing,
aaaaaand cocoa-peanut-buttery glaze!!!!
that's almost 1/2 cup kapowdered sugar;
1 T peanut butts;
2 T cocoa;
1/2 tsp vanilla;
and drops of soymilk or whatever,
until it's squeezable spreadable out of the corner of a plastic baggie.
there it is.
you need this in your life,
lest your life look like sh!t, and your mouth taste like sh!t,
and your sh!ts not be composed of the cinnamony peanuy buttery
chocoluscious confection affection that you just witnessed.
get after it, guys.
time is a-wastin',
and these buns are for the tastin';
never quiet, never soft.....


chocolate cake!
chocolate CAKE!!
how much chocolate is enough?
that's a trick question.
first of all- chocolate is good for you.
i think that's a science thing.
secondly- too much is the right amount.
and i know THAT'S no joke.
when it's chocolate cake time at the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress,
we gotta get into that cocoa-loco lusciousness as hard as we can.
i mean,
rules is rules,
and besides,
it's not just doing it that counts for something around here-
it's OVERdoing it.
that's our style, and that's what's up.
check the chocolate-cake-type teleport:

when it's time to brown out in these parts,
it's time to really brown the F* out, buddy.
two tiers of chocolate cake.
frosting in the center.
ganache all over the top, drippin' off of and down the sides,
shaved dark chocolate truff' sprankles grated all over that,
and then MORE frosting for your effing face,
just to make sure you can tell that the deepest darkness
goes all the way to eleven on a 1-10 scale.
that's right.
the cake was simple simple-
two greased and lightly floured 9" round pans
the oven preheated to 350F
and a stand mixer at the ready, for this:
1 1/4 cup sugar (1 cup light brown, 1/4 cup organic granulated)
1 stick butts
3 T creamchee'
3/4 tsp salt
1 T vanilla
^^as always, mash all that up, and add:
1 cup vegan sourcream
1/2 cup cocoa
2 cups flour
1/4 cup tapioca
1 cup non-dairy milk
2 tsp bakey kapowder
1 tsp bakey soda
^^^whipped into a fluffy battery bowlful of rich brown goodness,
and baked for at least 30 minutes, or until a toofpick comes out clean.
...cake. done.
the frosting was no real huge labor, either.
6 T vegan butts
2 T creamchee
1/3 cup cocoa
2 cups kapowdered sugs
a pinch of salt
1 tsp vanilla
and drips and drops of nondairy milky emulsification,
until that chalky cocoa monster was tamed and turned into smooth, airy awesomeness.
- frosting glued the two cakes together,
totally-activated melted chocolate dark ganache sealed in the sexxxiness,
and also seeped down the sides, making everything groovy and gooey for a minute.
the chocolate truffle i shaved up?
it was rich and creamy and dreamy,
and the spranks reflect that, neighbors.
and then, to really give it that hottness,
i triple ringed the rim with frosting.
how does it taste?
oh, C'MON.
you know it's the BIG BROWN BOTTOM-B!TCH!!!
wordimus prime.
i mean, come ON now,
what are you?
an A*-hole?
...don't be dumb.
it's delicioso.
for real, that much chocolate couldn't lead you astray.
go make a cake.
it's a skill that makes you a better you.
everybody can NOT make a cake,
that's no big deal at all.
and almost anybody can rep a box mix jaun.
the thing about that is-
box mix is for jerks.
that is a factual truth from heaven, homies.
part of that statement is false.
despite there not being a heaven,
it's a hell of a weak-sauce showing is you run that just-add-oil-and-water-sh!t.
don't be a turd.
get out the measuring cups,
and get fresh with some gosh-danged cake, dudes;
never quiet, never soft.....

Friday, December 2


buttercup squash.
y'wanna know what i think of it?
NOT my favorite.
it looks so cool,
i guess should've known i'd be disappointed.
that's pessimistic, but, it's also a provably reliable perspective.
on the ones-
if i'm attracted to the weird good looks of somethin' or someone,
it's gonna take a hot sh!t right on my chin, guaranteed.
i mean,
that's sort of been my move, both in and out of the kitchen-
hey, neighbors, i rolled the dice anyway,
and i snake-eyed another 'nother sexxxy meal!
too bad that it just wasn't what i wanted.
check the teleport:

isn't she pretty??
i bet you'd like it, especially if you're a winter-squash-head.
i like a lot of things, but this buttercup was kind of a bust out.
the bowl-style bump-up presentation had it poppin',
but damn, duders-
it tasted like a pithy, hot cantaloupe.
no thanks.
even with sea salt and olive oil, and a pre-bake,
before a caramel-creating broil, it just didn't tickle my fancy,
despite lookin' fancy.
it has about two cups of sourdough crusty stuffin',
with a quarter of an onion, half a carrot, one huge stalk of celery,
half a sweet potato, and half a cup of black beans in there, too.
everything sauteed and seasoned,
coated in half a cup of broth,
tossed, tucked away in a tin, and baked for a bit, at 375F, along with the squash,
and those potatoes in the bottom right corner, which we'll talk about in a minute.
after 20 minutes of soaking and baking and generally being aromatically awesome,
which, incidentally, was close to 15 minutes after the squash went in the oven,
i put the one inside the other, and out the combo back in the oven,
on a much higher, broily browning blast for another 'nother 15 minutes.
it looked like i wanted to like it so much more than i did:

homemade gravy is key.
butter and flour, 1:1 browned, with a cup of broth, and GPOP, and nootch,
and maybe a little bit more flour, if you're in a hurry to thicken it quicker-
the gravy saved some of the day,
as did those very smoky tempeh bacon sprankles.
i took it there.
mixin' in the texture of that curly kale was a bonus as well.
that squash, though, man.
i'm just not feelin' it.
that sausage and potato and broccoli rapini jaun, however....
that sh!t was THE sh!t.
homemade vegan sausages get made in big batches, b!tches-
and none of 'em ever go to waste.
bias cut, and browned with circles of shallot makes the my mouth get psyched.
roasted yellow-flesh blue-skinned potatoes aren't too shabby on their own-
so when they get olive oiled, and tossed in with the sausages?
holy smokes, the world is expanding, the universe is collapsing,
and the overlap of tastes creates infinity on your tongue!
maybe just a little bit.
not when you factor in that blanched and braised broccoli rabe, bro!
the side order stole the show, yo.
ad i'm glad it did, or i'd have pouted out loud,
and made a whole new dinner, too.
i'm not about to be bummed out all night,
when all i've had to look forward to all day is dinnertime.
it's cool.
those 'tatoes did the trick.
i'm cool.
we're cool.
it's cool.
december, man.
is my car ready yet?
am i worried?
not exactly.
the thing is-
i've got a silver rental car.
and i don't think i'm a silver car person.
maybe part of the reason that november sucked the hardest balls
was that i was living the life of a silver-carred man,
instead of the more exceptional metal-flaky charcoal/graphite
grey-and-black jammer i know myself to be.
i think that's a thing.
also, the other reason november sucked hard balls is because
november is a F*ing A*-hole.
that's no joke.
i'm excited to have what's mine returned to me.
i'm also excited to rock out with crabtree in the co-pilot seat,
and cruise the woodsly goodness with that little dude.
i've missed it, and he's missed it,
and we HATE missing out,
almost as much as we hate missing you.
awwwwwwwwww, sh!t.
but, we do, and we are, and we do,
and it's ALL really happening,
so i s'pose this silver subaru has got to go, so we can all get back on track;
never quiet, never soft.....


it's just so easy japanesey!
i'm talking about sushi.
vegan sushi, obvi.
just plants and rice in flat ocean paper....
and i LOVE it.
here's the thing-
i don't want basic baby-b!tch rolls, though.
i want the big action;
the jam-packed turbo-charged super-loveliness;
i want expert vegan give-a-F*ery in full flippin' effect.
and since it's just me and the dog,
and he's unlikely to ever be much help,
it's up to me to stop dreaming it,
and start being it.
and the good news is that i doo-doo that ill-na-nori-style sh!t.
you want the big action, you must create the big action.
check the don't-ig-nori-me-type teleport:

two burly big baddie rolls,
and a little side activation to spice things up.
i baked some sweet potato, and some tofu strips,
to keep the sexxxy times poppin' inside that sooosh-
and while i had all that in the oven, at 375F, getting firm and crisp,
and also soft and sweet?
i put a 3/4" thickness of butternut squash neck,
lathered in soy and sesame oil, right in there too.
that was some future-perfect progressive hottness, no doubt.
i've been baking on parchment exclusively for the last few days,
and what it wastes in sexy paper,
it saves tenfold in cleanup.
...which means more time for more recipes,
which is darned good news for people who like that sort of stuff. you and i.
i also had a little scallion and apple and pea tendril garnish,
and some tamari-horseradish-agave dippin' sauce.
because i like my jauns to be exxxtra-special,
and i like them to be elite,
beyond the standard tastes and textures we already know and love.
anybody can have some as-good-as action,
but we worthy warrior poets want that way-better-than flavor.
too much is the right amount, man.
you should know that by now.
the rolls themselves had huge levels of delicious barely contained inside 'em.
and dredged in dried spicy mustard, cayenne, ground sesame seeds
then cornstarch-coated for crawnchy skin-on savory superiority,
those baked tofu pieces are the TRUTH.
with pan-seared asparagus, cucumber, carrot, pea tendrils,
and finished with sesame seed sprankles?!
and the other other ones?
those got baked sweet potato, tofu, apple, scallion, avocado, and cukes.
word up.
i'm on it.
i'm about it.
and all of it is really happening.
the food portion of the program is no problem at all.
super-official radical vegan bombardment of nutrients
will always be on the move upwards.
...and everything else?
that's altogether a whole other 'nother series of obstacles.
let's focus on the food for now,
and let the sweet potatoes and the cucumbers fill in the blanks for us.
a sushi mat;
good short-grain sushi rice;
seasoned rice wine vinegar;
dead ocean papers, a.k.a seaweed, a,k,a, necessary but so close to gross;
that's what you should have on hand.
i mean,
y'never know when the sushi craving will strike.
you can't be expected to miss out because your larder
or your cupboard
or your pantry
or your whatever you call it doesn't have the appropriate sh!t in it.
i even back up my back-ups.
rules is rules,
and MORE is the correct quantity.
i'm just sayin',
it doesn;t hurt to have it on hand,
but it sure as sh!t sucks butts when you're missing out because you've run out.
go get the stuff, guys,
we'll get it poppin' the next time i come over.
if you know why that's funny,
then you also know i'll be waiting for you here the next time we see each other.
don't worry,
i've got all the stuff to make sushi;
never quiet, never soft.....

Thursday, December 1


F* you, november!
today is the day.
the new debut of the last month of the year.
the final page in the calendar,
the first day of the grand finale-
yes, YES, y'all-
it's december, finally.
the deepest, darkest, doo-doo butteriest month-long mess
of make-believe merriment and holiday sentiments for all the boys and girls.
the whole month of december is like the last day of a vacation.
you wanna make it special,
and you don't want the looming doom and gloom
of really real life to intrude on the well-wishing wonders
of the obligatory big funtimes,
that's never the way it goes, bros.
no joke.
there's dead-ends and deadlines that loom overhead,
self-imposed plans that have been delayed
and allowed to stray from the linear timelines of start-to-finishing
by circumstances beyond my control,
but well within the limits of predictable probability.
if it always goes off with naught but hitches,
maybe preparing for the worst case, at all times,
is the most reasonable move to make?
bleak? maybe.
defeated? never
in fact,
i awoke to the whinging whines and complaints of crabtree,
instead of scolding his incessant mewling,
i laid out a spell of hopeful hop-hopping,
and spit it from my curse-filled scarred lips like my future depended on it.
...and it just might.
so, there.
i said the magic words to cultivate coincidence and foster good fortune,
because rules is rules.
and then what happened?
it never does.
but, saying it out loud is a good way to keep positive.
it's when we stop saying it that we accept it won't get any better.
rabbit! rabbit! 
the words were spoken,
the tradition continues regardless,
and yet i feel sorta like i did as a ne'er-do-well younger man,
on the night before a big project was due.
it's a mad dash to the finish,
pretending that i wasn't effing off and fooling around until the urgency of
an emergency last-ditch effort,
pressed and pressured to pull out of a nosedive tailspin of laziness.....
only, this time, all i did was what needed doing,
and there just wasn't enough time to accommodate needs AND ambitions,
labors of obligation and labors of love don't follow the same schedule
up here in the woodsly goodness.
what a weird sensation-
doing what i'm supposed to be doing,
and still feeling as if it's nowhere near enough by half.
that's a real bummer,
y'know what's NOT?
the bread situation here at the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress.
believe it,
when all else fails, as all else is prone to doing,
the crust and crumb seem to step it up by an order of magnitude.
take a look at this:

no, i mean, for real, though:

i've been inspired by some of the dreamy steam slit slices i've seen lately,
and i've been immitating, as a very sincere form of flattery:

i really reallllly like bread.
a whole lot.
and this exxxtra-crusty freeform,
straight on the stone,
steam-injected sexxxiness?
it has a caramelized crust,
huge oven spring,
and all the damned bubbles within those perfect gluten chains
that wild yeast and time could conjure up together.
for realsies,
if it takes a year of garbage to make solid gold bread?
i guess that's what we get.
that's a hard style, sure,
good bread makes better people.
maybe this p!sshole year has just been a preparation
for a whole other 'nother new adventure,
up, over, and beyond the nearest horizon!
that bread?
4 cups of white flour
1 cup of starter
1 1/2 cup warm water
1 tsp sugar
2 tsp wheat gluten
1 T salt.
yeah, i know,
that sugar is a dirty trick,
the crust gets so much darker and doper with it in there.
kneaded and bulked up on the countertop,
for a solid twelve hours,
with stretch and fold aeration happening at random intervals throughout.
a final shaping, and another quick bulk, maybe two hours,
in a banneton, covered, and allowed to form that sexxxy skin around it,
before a decent 10 hour cold proof, and another hourlong rise in the a.m.
as the oven heats to 455F.
i baked it directly on the stones for 25 minutes
before i added scalding water-
at least a quarter cup's worth, to the oven surface directly.
that's when i turn on the convection function,
and allow for steamy swirling to activate all those pentosans.
another 20 minutes, and we've got what you see here;
which is to say- the new hottness is in F*ing full effect.
word up.
and it's not just one loaf.
check the crust on this guy:

ground oat flour,
and fast-actin' oat flakes made this one a hearty party for my mouth.
i propose a toast, with vegan butter, and a cup of irish breakfast tea.
Tea 'N' Toast goes to eleven with this bread on hand.
that's a thing.
...and even when the dough is very wet,
perhaps more than i may have intended, actually.
and the proof is shortened,
because sometimes i need more bread right NOW,
i'm still pretty psyched on the results:

this one is a chia/sprouted whole wheat jaun.
it's damned good, too.
that's the big protein powerhouse loaf.
how'd it toast?
like a champ.
what am i?
an A*-hole?
i'm a home baker and home wrecker,
but never at the expense of others.
it's the last minute.
no sense in scurrying and hurrying now, though, y'know?
you'll only end up disappointed and exhausted.
i'm just sayin'-
there's only one month left to make this year not a total piece of sh!t.
a whole year down to about four and a half weeks' worth of work.
i can promise you the bread will be ready.
everything else might not;
never quiet, never soft.....

Wednesday, November 30


what happens when taco tuesday meets a pizza-every-day mindset?
i needed to know.
and that was the sentiment i was summoning
when i started tossing the dough for my dinner, duders.
i love mexican food, or my approximation of it, anyway.
and i realllly love pizza.
like, the most.
the natural progression, after the success of my supernachos last week,
was to combine more of the things i love into new things.
sorta like the way babies are made-
but, of course,
without any real chance of intercourse.
taco pizza is what i wanted,
and taco pizza is what i made.
check the andale'-type teleport:

kaBOOMFUEGO for your b-hole, bro!!!!
the crust is preposterously expert.
i'm serious.
2 cups of flour
1 1/4 cups of semolina
1 cup white-on white sourdough starter
1 T rapid-rising yeast
1 T salt
1 1/4 cup warm water
1 tsp sugar
kneaded up,
and punched down twice in the first two hours,
then allowed a second bulk for about 6 solid coldish hours in a row,
before beng refrigerated for an even colder proof,
and then divided, folded, and plastic-bagged in 4 servings of crucial doughy dopeness.
i don't even remember what day i did that on.
i just know it was last week.
i doo-doo that preparatory sh!t,
because pizza sometimes has to be a battlefield decision at just a moment's notice.
word up.
this particular pizza has a lot going on.
and that's good news,
because too much is the right amount.
 i went into it knowing i was going to do myself a digestive mischief,
and honestly, i regret not one bit of it.
refried beans form the base.
that's extra-oniony, GPOP'd, nootch-boosted, ho'sauvy custom pinto magic,
spread thick on the bottom,
and then,
there's daiya mozzarella shreds;
and then,
black beans;
and then, hand-cut daiya cheddar strips;
and then,
vegan roast, repurposed into a carnita asada explosion-
oregano, olive oil, smoked paprika, GPOP, cumin,
garlic, onions, and black pepper, with cayenne and fire-roasted tomato flakes,
seared and sizzled and stacked on top of those beans and chee'.....
and then,
the whole mess got covered in a smooth, well-simmered salsa picante!!;
and then,
cashew-garlic-tapioca & nootch queso sauce, blopped heavy on there;
with quartered grape tomatoes;
and pickled jalapenos;
and diced sweet onion.
damn, neighbors,
it felt good to pig out like a boss hog for the afternoon.
after baking it on a hot stone at 475F for almost 20 minutes,
for that slow-cooked thick-cut deep-heat dopeness,
i took it out, all double-bubblin' hot and chee'y;
and that's when i activated the upper-limits of flavor to their fullest-
scallion and cilantro sprankles!
tiny sweet red pepper ringlets,
and avo-F*ing-cado slices!!!
on the really real-
this pizza took my whole notion of delicious up another 'nother notch.
it weighed a ton, and now i do too.
i couldn't stop eating it.
i was full, i was satisfied, and i was relatively impressed with myself-
but rules is rules,
so i kept at it until i was fattishly destroyed, and totally uncomfortable.
heck yeah!
you know i HAD to.
i mean,
really, what was i gonna do?
save some for later?
no way.
i need all the pizza, all the time,
and that's exxxactly what i got.
thirty days of not-alright.
a month of miserable messy mush and mulch,
moping and making-do with doo-doo buttery doings.
what's that all about?
it's about the same sh!t, every year,
at the same dang time-
NOvember can go F* itself.
that is all;
never quiet, never soft.....


TWO COOKIE RECIPES ARE HERE! don't be discouraged by all the words before we get there....
good riddance to bad rubbish, neighbors-
that's what today is.
by midnight,
NO-thank-you-vember will finally be finished,
and not a moment too soon.
it's my least favorite one-
so much so that i'm generally suspicious of scorpios as a side-effect.
...and guys,
i'm no astrologist,
save for knowing that my sign has got to be the worst one,
largely i value free will over the aligned braille of ironically bright lights,
and the cosmic staccato sotto voce of morse coded manifestos
writing volumes of destiny in dead silent space,
all of which may determine the destiny of everybody,
specifically because of when they were born,
as in o'clock/day/month/year.
if that WERE true,
and there's a fatalist foretelling for my future as a frantic, forlorn factotum, forever?
then i guess i HAVE to do this,
and i'm supposed to feel like this,
and it's all really happening because nothing else could..
that's how that works.
F*ing gross)
i could just hate the sh!t out of the month of NO-way-jose-vember.
which i do.
the food, though.
like, the whole damned month of NO-me-gusta-vember,
all around the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress,
there's been some kind of super-turbo-elite culinary specters haunting my head
and guiding my hands.
i mean, really.
despite my disdain and despair over every other aspect
of the whole awful month of NO'body-loves-you-vember,
there's still some expert hottness permeating this kitchen...
...welling up from the ley lines that intersect along the peaks and valleys
of this mountainous forest realm;
beaming down from those interstellar editorial edicts in the sky;
creeping in from the foggy veil between awake and asleep
as every day dwindles into deeper, darker, colder,
and grimmer chapters of this grisly grimoire of secret universal plans.
i dunno if that's provably possible,
but whatever it is that's charged and enlarged this woodsly flippin' goodness
with gray, rainy, restless ruination and rough nights has also activated some
very tasty and super-delicious good ideas for baking and making in the hours
before anyone else wakes up.
i do my dirt all by my lonely, homies.
if you were an early riser and you somehow also got an invite,
and you were inclined to sleep over,
i bet you'd still snore away in while i got busy with my business before dawn.
that busy business has been good to me.
and i wanna show you something-
check the cocoa-coconut-type teleport:

chocolate coconut chocolate chip tahini cookies!
make 'em for yourself,
like this-
1 stick butterish
1 cup raw sugar
2 tsp vanilla
1/2 tsp salt
3/4 cup applesauce
1/2 cup tahini
1/3 cup cocoa
^stirred in thoroughly^
and added to-
2 cups a.p. flour
2 tsp baking kapowder
1/2 cup freshly-crushed unsweetened flake coconut
1 pkg mini dark chocolate chips
golf-ball sized blops, rolled out, pressed flattish,
and dropped in big shin, crystal decorative sexxxy sugar sprankles,
and baked for 13 minutes at 375F.
if you can't hang out with these, you're an A*-hole.
real talk.
a little minute ago,
i also made some gingerbread-style graham cookies for the kids.
have a look:

i'll admit,
the amateurish icing gave me a headache,
but they taste,m and the texture were freakin' awesome.
go ahead and make these, too:
1 stick of melted butts
1 cup light brown sugar
1/2 tsp salt
cinnamon, nutmeg, allspice
^squished together until smooth^
1/2 cup molasses
1 cup graham flour
1 cup all-purpz (a.p.) flour
1 tsp bakey kapowder
1 tsp bakey soda
1 tsp vanilla
3 crushed graham crax
pinch of cloves
1 1/2 tsp ginger
^ mix it up^
and then chill it out for about an hour-
at the post-60 min. mark, roll the dough on a floured surface,
and cut out some shapes, buddy. even number helps, if you're gonna stack 'em, y'feel me?
baked for 11 minutes at 380F.
and left to cool completely on arack, jack.
that's important.
especially when you consider that warm cookies ruin frosting.
which, speaking of-
i used maple-cider frosting in the middles.
that's butterish to powdered sugar at a ratio of 1:4?
4 T butts gets almost 2 cups of sugar-
plus a splish-spalsh of vanilla,
a tsp of maple syrup
and a steady drip of cider until the mixture is whisked into a fluffy explosion
of autumnal delights.
that brings us to the icing.
it was just sugar, vanilla, and soymilk.
but, apparently, it was just one drop too much wet.
it slid off the uneven surfaces,
and added just a touch more au naturel rustic imperfection than i'd have preferred.
the taste was affected not at all,
but i like my treats a little prettier these days.
the pink glitter sprankles helped.
so i guess there's that.
two kinds of cookies for you, right here.
i hope you like 'em.
i hope you make 'em.
so far., i haven't heard one review of anything i've given a recipe for.
am i surprised?
not really.
if you're anything like me,
(and i highly doubt that's the case)
you're off creating your own sh!t.
regardless, the information is here.
and in a very short time form now?
NO-more-vember will be a thing of the past.
i'm grateful for the muse of food in the humorless mess of a month.
i doubt it would've been nearly as tolerable without the treats;
never quiet, never soft.....

Tuesday, November 29


hey, neighbors,
sometimes, when you're in the heat of the moment,
in the heart of the house,
handling that b!tchin' kitchenly cookware,
you forget to rotate your stock!
sometimes i do, anyway.
...and that can leave you with odds and ends that beg to be used up,
instead of opening another 'nother 'nother other one, again.
y'feel me?
i found two partial tofu blocks in the refrigerator.
that's a bush-league laughable move, man.
first of all, who the eff doesn't tune-up a whole brick every time?
and then, to go right on ahead and do that same sh!t again?
i mean, once is bad, but again?
partial tofu consumption makes me feel inadequate.
for real-
too much is the right amount.
and instead of following the rules,
i've been over here responsibly portioning?
c'mon, dude, i should know better.
how did i amend this logistical error?
with DUMPS!!!
and kung pao tofu, too!!
that's right, it's soybean overload,
and i want you too know all about it...
check the teleport:

i wasn't even going to make dinner,
but i got home a bit early,
and i had a heaping piece-of-sh!t pizza for lunch,
so i needed a win in the supper segment of the night.
enter the tofu.
the big brick was cubed into 1/4 inch squares,
and sauteed in sesame oil with finely-diced onion and carrot,
with big slab garlic slices added after a little minute.
the sauce is what made it right, though, homies-
2 T soy sauce
2 T rice wine vinegar
1 tsp sugar
1 T sriracha
black pepper
ground mustard
red pepper flakes
1/2 tsp grated ginger
1 T cornstarch
5 T warm water
stirred and slurried, and poured over a batch of red chilis,
sweet baby bell peppers, peanuts, and celery, all right-angled and righteous,
with the added zing of cilantro and scallion after a minute.
the sauce gets thick, the heat gets lowered, and the pao-pao is paowerful.
and then,
there's those DUMPS ON YOUR FACE, ACE!
i covered dumplings in detail here.
check it out.
this time,
in addition to tofu, i also used garlic, onion, and kale,.
with GPOP, sesame seeds, and ginger,
with a dash of cayenne to activate some exxxtra-hottness
i like dumplings.
a lot.
and whenever i have 'em, i have a lot of 'em.
rules is rules,
and that's one i don't overlook.
in real life,
away from the skillets,
and absent the photography,
and disregarding all the overeating,
everything else is total bullsh!t.
crabtree's injury is still a source of infected angst,
and of inflamed irritation to the both of us.
my car?
remember that?
i crashed it over a month ago?
still not ready.
that's pretty cool.
and the insurance coverage of a rental is over and done with today-
in the bigger picture,
that's really a minor inconvenience,
it's heaped atop a month of rainy days off;
long bitter cold dog walks;
terrible appointments dominating each day's doings at work;
and no sleep at all since thanksgiving.
the all-encompassing mosaic is a frowning face,
composed entirely of jagged bits and bobs,
ragged and rough-hewn, sharp and sour,
and probably full of tetanus- least i got that shot at the hospital,
sorry, but there won't be any lockjaw, at least.
y'wanna know why i always write about food?
because food produces reliable, uplifting, positive results
for realsies,
if it looks good, and it tastes good?
it IS good.
and guys,
on the ones,
good is good,
but bad is everything else.
everything else is everywhere else,
and all of it is really happening.
NOvember is on borrowed time, but holy crap,
it blew by in a grey blur of always-the-sameness.
and now,
this is it.
the last leg of a one-legged A*-kickin' contest.
i don't think that's how it is supposed to work;
never quiet, never soft.....

Monday, November 28


pumpkin oatmeal coconut pancakes!
that sound good to you?
me too.
as a matter of fact,
i pretty much want that every day,
holy sh!t would i become an enormously gelatinous mass
of mush-middled man-pig if i were to regularly indulge in that sort of decadence.
i do like 'em, though,
and we did have 'em, too.
...and when we're already readily gettin' busy with some burly panniecakes,
we gotta go whole-hog full-bore flat-out supermegalodonsharkgluttonous,
and make sure we're munching up on those fully-complemented
BIG breakfast jauns.
...word up.
i'm sayin'-
me and my kids, we like a thorough brekkie fry-up,
and we're not afraid to get involved in some in-depth charged nourishment.
don't believe it?
then check the big-big-type teleport:
apple-somethin'-somethin' weirdie storebought soysages notwithstanding,
this was a custom good morning magic explosion from
the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress test kitchen laboratory,
live and direct straight to the future.
cinnamon and nutmeg and allspice,
coconut sugar,
crushed coconut flake flour,
the works.
that's what's up with that panniebatter, broski-mo.
y'wanna make some?
do it like this-
pumplestiltskin panniecakes:
1 cup a.p. flour;
1/3 cup ground coconut flakes (unsweetened);
^NOT coconut flour, that's a different consistency, man. c'mon)
1/3 cup freshly ground thick old fashioned rolled oat flou;
...but it will, once you doo-doo that freaky sh!t.
4 T coconut sugar;
2 tsp baking kapowder;
1/2 tsp salt'
1 cup non-dairy milk ( i used french vanilla silk creamer i.d.g.a.f.);
1/2 cup pumpkin;
1/4 cup vegan sour creme;
1 tsp vanilla;
3-4 T melted butterish;
cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger to taste.
whisk it up, get it gloppy, and let it rest for like, an hour.
oh yeah-
and then, when it's settled,
you'll prob'ly have to hit it with some more 'milk.
that's okay.
if you leave it too thick, and it stays dense, you get bombs,
not cakes of sunfeathery freshness and light airy fluff.
just thin it out enough to drop from a ladle easily,
and after that, cook 'em up.
-if you don't know how to cook pancakes,
you're beyond my ability to assist,
and what's more, i don't love you, and i probably wont ever, either.
- i freaked mine off with real maple syrup, kapowdered sugar,
and second-chance cranberry compote.
damn, that was a good idea, too.
100% expert panniemancakes made my day.
we also had tofu scramborghini.
you know i like me a good scrambo, neighbors.
that's no joke.
turmeric, GPOP, salt, pepper, smoked paprika, and nootch.
it's so simple, sizzling in olive oil,
but it gets me every time.
i've been all about activating it with fried tomatoes.
i use the small sweet ones, because i like cute things.
i'm allowed.
it adds a whole new realm of desirable dopeness to the dish,
and i think we all deserve a little more desirable dopeness, don't you?
heck yes we do.
believe that.
skin-on rustic new red potato homeboyfries are the boomfire lava
that leaves us all wanting so much more of it.
oh, yes, i'm so for real right now.
potatoes are the TRUTH.
get with it, or get outta here.
rules is rules.
oven roasted at 350F forever,
until they lightly Garlic Powdered and Onion Powdered,
salted, peppered, and olive-oiled outsides are golden crispy hottness embodied,
and tossed into a butterishly blistering skillet, with chopped onion,
and paprika, and smoked paprika, and hot paprika, and ho'sauce,
until they got that good-good crispy crawnchiness, kid.
i'm not sayin' you should start it out on medium heat.
no way.
i go high heat always, from the first to the last,
but you'd better be on yo' sh!t, son.
or else all you'll have is burnt bits of b!tchbaggery.
ho'sauce likes to turn blacker than black quicker than quick.
i'm tellin' you to pay attention.
that's all.
scallion sprankles give 'em a little coolwater sharp slap of exxxtra.
and that's always good.
28 days later,
and NOvember has been a real F*ing A*hole.
historically my least favorite month, by far,
and this time around is only serving to solidify that ranking
as least among the calendar's pages forever and ever.
it has been lonelier,
and more demanding,
and a good deal bloodier than most.
crabtree is hurting, and draining lymph all over the house.
his ugly wound is abscessed,
and i'm obsessed with treating it.
both with antibiotics and warm compresses, which seem to help.
the painkillers make him especially battle-beastly, too.
it's been a brutal weekend of canine complications,
and i'm well aware of how worse for wear my attenuated nerves
and impossibly saggy baggy eyes have been as a consequence.
i'd like to take a little moment just to say,
if i ever see that other dirty used budget dog ever again,
it's life will be compressed into mere miserable minutes,
and real talk-
lifelong vegan or not, his future is forfeit.
i'm ride or die for my only friend in this forest realm;
when he's hurting i'm hurting,
whoever did the hurting has it coming as far as i'm concerned.
and i pay my debts in full.
infinite nature applies to everything.
dogs being dogs,
rule being rules,
and vengeful lightning-striking vikings doing what they do, too
that's a hard style, huh?
well, there it is.
it's documented, i meant it,
and it's all really happening, which just so happens to be the whole point.
what's more-
my mouth is still a shredded bed of scar tissue,
almost as if i'd done some heavy makeout sessioning with a mako shark,
and my hands are torn in ways only a savage thanksgiving could accomplish,
grating shredding chopping mincing dicing and crushing kept my mitts
in a mass of massacred mayhem that gloved-up safe-tattoo-practices have perpetuated.
my two smallish human accomplices are back safe and sound in their hometown,
miles and hours away from the woodlsy goodness.
we're home alone, me and my vangogh'd little viceroy.
there's very few numbers on the thermometer.
barely double digits, in fact,
but we've got miles to manage before i leave for work,
hurt or not,
healing or harming,
there's work to be done.
we've got a job to do, and this it-
walking uphill, but always headed downhill;
never quiet, never soft.....

Sunday, November 27


we had pumpkin pie on thanksgiving.
we did.
harvest insisted, and she's very bossy.
to be fair,
i do enjoy a modified conventional tradition turned vegan,
and made 100% more expert.
i mean,
who wouldn't want to turn it up to eleven,
and take a slice of super-elite smooth pumplestiltskin sorcery to the dome?
only an A*-hole, that's who.
and we're not tryna live that bullsh!t in the Folk, Life & Liberty Fortress.
not even for a second.
so, we made ourselves some pump up,
and we loved it, and we think that you will, too.
check the belated-bleating-bebop-type teleport:
we get down and dirty with the pie times around these parts.
that's real.
and this dirty bird was no exception.
smooth as baby butts;
spicy like white girl coffees;
crusty like gutter punx;
this jammie-jam is the TRUTH.
how do you get your hands on one?
you make it.
and to do that, you do this-
ovenly heat should be 350F
2 pkgs graham crax, crushed,
1/4 cup brown sugar
2 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp nutmeg
3 T melted butts
1 tsp vanilla
non-dairy milk, added by the tsp,
until the mix is malleable, and holds it's shape.
form it, bake it for 11 minutes, and let it cool a bit.
how easy is that?
yeah. i know.
12 oz 'umpkin puree
1/2 cup kapowdered sugs
cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, allspice, mace, and cloves
pinch of salt
1/4 cup tapioca (optional- i personally prefer my pump up firmer)
1 T flour
1 T ground golden flaxmeal
1 1/2 pkg tofutti creamchee'
splash of maple syrup
food process or blend that until smooth as heck,
and pour it into the crust. logical, huh?
bake it for thirty-forty minutes,
until it only barely jiggles when you shake it.
^ that's enough hottness for anybody^
that's not enough hottness for us.
which is why we hit it up with that maple-cider frosting halo,
and those flaky cinnamon-spiked pastry acorn accents.
i'm just sayin',
when it's time to get wordimus prime, neighbors,
we really make it do some stunts and feats of flavortown boomfire.
the frosting is simple as heck:
in a stand mixer (if you're treally real)
or bowl and whisk (electric i hope, for your sake)
combine 4 T butts
1 1/2 cup pow-pow-powdered sugar
1 tsp vanilla
a splash of maple syrup
and cider, drizz'd in there until it's fluffy as F*.
you've got magic at your fingertips, kids.
i believe in you.
my kids go back today.
back home,
to the comfortable confines of the not-so-great-state of connecticut.
there's thanksgiving thursday,
black friday,
and even a cybermonday.
the stuck in there is the one day they haven't named yet.
the sh!t-salad sunday where everybody sits in traffic
on their way back to where they were last wednesday-
and i'm about to be all up in that mess for miles and miles, as i drive the day away,
in between a serious case of crabtree caregiving.
that b!tch-A* brindle mongrel muthaF*er really got him good.
oh, he got bit behind his ear, remember?
well, he did.
by a budget beast, and all for his overexuberant superfriendliness.
he hasn't learned that optimism is a recipe for punishment yet,
but he's still young. he'll get it, eventually.
7x cleaner than my mouth or not,
that sh!thole's salivary scum infected the puncture,
which swelled to the size of a softball,
and my happy little battle-bullet looks more like the elephant man than a terrier.
and what's worse (and a little better)
is that he has been listless and uncomfortable since.
so, now he's got himself some antibiotics,
and a lacerated/shaved/awful-looking
incident-area event-horizon, rife with redness and swelling,
and a regimen of painkillers that have my sweet boy all drug-addled and dopey.
and after all THAT,
i'm gonna be driving roundtrip back and forth
to and from the unrivaled F*ery of massholechusetts,
instead of being home with him, or even being nearby,
tattzapping aboard that blasted and ballasted bilge-pump of a bummer-barge.
...and the kids wont be here for a whole other 'nother 'nother month,
and i'm empty-nesting extra hard.
i miss them already, and they're still asleep upstairs.
i can't say it enough-
i'm grateful for the time we get together,
and while it's nowhere near as much as i'd like,
i think we really concentrate all our focus attention, and intentions
on making the maxxximum magic in the minimum minutes.
we gotta.
anything else would be a slap in the mouth to the worthy warrior poetry
and active participation that compose our savage stormswept symphony
of fresh and flavorful family togetherness.
it's all really happening.
that's the whole point;
never quiet, never soft.....

Saturday, November 26


i don't F* with those, really.
i may occasionally be persuaded to repurpose
some previously appreciated delciousness into a whole 'nother
new piece of super hottness for dinnertime family enjoyment.
and that's for real.
for instance,
my heroic vegan roast?
i took a few slabs off of that, added oregano, smoked paprika,
lots of olive oil, soy sauce, GPOP, basil, coriander, and black pepper,
and asadafied that sh!t into a whole new realm of ethnicity.
word up,
because vegan roast on it's own wasn't gonna work in our quick and dirty
family-style plate of big burly corn tortilla chip activation.
that's right, my friends.
we had to tune up a whole panful of custom expert vegan nachos deluxxxe.
check the teleport:
we love the nachos, we get mucho lucha libre on the nachos,
we chancho out like little piggies on the chips and dips
and we doo-doo all that as hard and as fast as we can.
real talk.
-a lotta melty-A* daiya chee' is essential.
-a little nootchy GPOP goo-wop glop don't hurt it, either.
(that's 1/4 cup nutritional yeast, 1/4 cup water or non-dairy milk,
2 T GPOP [1 of each] black pepper, and a splash of soy sauce,
heated until thickish and drizz'd on the chips)
-refried beans, with that exxtra-buttery sweet-onion and nootch-boosted goodness?
they make the glue that bonds the chips into bigger big bites.
that's dope.
-black beans! because black beans matter-
lightly seasoned with sriracha and garlic salt,
sauteed with onions, and removed from the pan just before they burst,
so they can save some pop for the oven, my loves.
nachos are F*ing rad, man.
i just wanna insert that sentiment for you to appreciate.
-the roast asada, because that's how we got started here in the first place;
-black olives, because like beans, they matter, too;
fire-roasted green chilis, to give it that oily smoothness, the mild spice,
the slippery slap of peppery taste that goes easy on the tongue,
and slides down so smoothly in every bite;
-scallion sprankles. for serious, bro-
rules is rules,
and spranks are what's up;
-quartrered sweet oblong baby grape tomatoes,
low in juice, heavy on fleshy tomato thickness, huge on taste;
-hot salsa drizzles make it work like it has an important job to do;
-and cilantro leaf sexxxiness ties the whole thing up in a neat green package.
too much is the right amount,
and more stuff means more nacho goodness for a more awesome experience.
that's how we like it around these parts.
we baked that big baby up in the oven, at around 380F
on the convection air-circulation circuit,
turning it twice to make it especially nicey-nice,
for something dumb,
like, more than 15 minutes i think.
damn if we didn't terrorize that whole thing in less time than it took to make.
we prepare for a huge explosive savage shark-gluttonous feeding frenzy.
it's like dominoes, all that set-up,
to watch it drop quickly,
and then watch that set off an avalanche.
we don't just do it to it, dudes.
we overdo it.
that's our style.
how do you do your nachos?
i hope you're ready to get at least that filthy with it.
if it isn't ridiculous, it isn't right.
and we all wanna get right, right?
never quiet, never soft.....