if you like it, it usually means you know what's up.
if you don't, it usually means you're an A*-hole.
for the record, i LOVE it, and i might still be an A*-hole,
so there's no guarantee of anything here.
however, if you're gonna make it, y'gotta make it nicey-nice,
and that means doing it right.
and i do it riiiiiiight.
that's no joke.
you gotta prep it properly, in order to get the full effect.
i know what to do, and i doo-doo that freaky sh!t.
...guys, snow day supper means melanzane magic-time around here.
and when breezy is keeping me company,
that means gluten-free fried eggplant is ON the menu.
what do we eat on saturdays in the snow?
we eat pizza, bro.
c'mon, what are you? dumb? stop it, and check the teleport:
that's how you make yourself feel great!!
(she had gf pasta, and homemade sauce with hers)
sorry, but gf pizza crust isn't my forté, yet.
that's what's poppin' around the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress, friends.
thinly-sliced skin-on graffiti eggplant, salted and set up,
rinsed, dried, and dredged in:
1 cup non-dairy milk, whisked up with:
1 tsp chia seeds;
1 T chia-flaxmeal;
1 T nootch.
that makes the sticky-stickiness that affixes itself to each circle.
that's eggless eggplant, and that's expert.
and then you dredge those dunked discs into a dry mix-
the herb-crusty gluten-free excellence really turns it up a notch or two.
3 T garbanzo bean flour;
1 T cornstarch;
1 cup crushed gf brown rice krispies;
1 tsp oregano;
1 tsp dried basil;
1 T nootch;
1 tsp ea GPOP;
1/2 tsp thyme;
1/2 tsp crushed red pepper flakes;
pink salt and black pepper.
shallow-fried in a big ol' pan of vegetable oil until both sides are crissssspy.
neighbors, a good eggplant is gonna keep everything running smoothly on the pizza train.
i mean it.
the eggplant is spotlit on center stage, doing 75% of the heavy lifting.
really, then, as long as your crust is tight af,
you're golden even with just those two things;
and everything else you're gonna hepa on there is just exxxtra awesome.
i have fire-roasted crushed tomatoes for the sauce.
that's over a bed of mandatorily minced daiya mozz'.
then there's a bog bunch of baby spinach, and slivered red onion-
over that, i have blops of my own homemade from-scratch vega tapioca-tofu mozzarella
it's SO melty and stretchy and perfect.
that recipe is right here.
then fried garlic sprankles.
i mean, you already know- rules is rules.
and that eggplant features heavily on top.
but, that's not allllllllll, y'all.
too much is the right amount,
so there's also miyoko cashew-based mozzarella grated over all of that!!!
the oven was roaring at 480℉, convection style, and the stones were hot as heck.
honestly, it all went super-smoothly,
even though i was literally on the verge of actually exploding.
no. not like a temper tantrum, like an actual stick of dynamite.
i didn't, and i survived to tell the tale,
and i activated the pizza up to eleven
with a parsley garnish sprankle blast, instead.
honestly, i think the dough really complimented that egplant.
it was the simplest i've made in a minute, but holy crap, it was the best, too.
you must have a stand mixer by now?
then stop reading, and go get one.
now, in your brand new stand mixer, with the dough hook attached, knead:
2 cups +2 T ap flour;
2 tsp salt;
1 pkg regular yeast;
1 tsp bread machine yeast;
> 1 cup warm water,
all together for 11 minutes.
cover it, and refrigerate it for a slow bulk/proof all day.
i make mine in the a.m., and fire up the oven when i get home about 12 hours later.
it's wet, but that's good.
just one more look:
that's a lot of eggplant, but that's the right answer, always.
dylan recently showed me a wet-hands trick that works great for stretching dough
on my oiled, seasoned, old-timey stainless baking sheet.
i use that before i transfer it directly to the stones for the last little minute.
there's nothing fancy at all about this dough,
but it tastes mutha-F*ing imperial, man.
all together, all the things had my mind calmer, my soul satiated,
and all but my restless legs and my coughing larynx relaxed.
man, i was in heaven, and i had my lady with me, and i was warm,
and of course, i had to ruin it by getting all heavy-lidded and dumb,
and falling a little bit asleep right away.
even when i'm expert, i find a way to be lame.
damn, it's tough being a weird old person.
***********my sweet, sassy, sophisticated, succulent, truculent tasty baby-mama,
better known to the populace of new hampshire as breezy,
is truly somethin' special.
...and that's just the truth.
the thing is:
i'm a finely-calibrated, delicately-balanced piece of work.
y'ever heard an old-timer call somebody a real piece of work?
it doesn't actually usually mean something good.
while i was AT work being a piece of work yesterday,
she brought me a coffee during an snow day afternoon visit,
and it activated alllllllll the free radicals, agent provocateurs, and radical activists
in every one of my body's cells, and they organized a jailbreak of energized
berserker barbarianism that had me twitching an itching and generally vibrating
at about a billion times the normal rate of interactive participation with the outside world.
here's the thing-
i really care deeply about this woman.
i was doubly anxious about being anxious,
especially as i'd just been shown kindness and consideration.
and also it's even more of a bummer because the coffee was F*ing excellent.
but the consequences were powerful which all told, made it a very very bad idea.
...the remainder of the evening was the equivalent
to eating the brown acid at woodstock.
therefore, here's the new rule:
NO caffeine of any kind (that includes decaf) after 2 pm.
no matter what.
there i was, eating eggplant with my competent, capable, and communicative partner,
and my whole body was humming with pent up hyper-awareness of everything
in the past present and future.
all i did was have a warm, invigorating beverage,
and just like *that* my mind transcended space and time,
and i was adrift in a sea of invisible stress and overstimulation.
that's no bueno, bro.
especially when we'd been buried to our eyebrows in bliss up until then.
it's just that she's got somethin'.
that very specific, but indescribable somethin'.
i dunno if it's pheromones, or energy-aura-sh!t,
or both, or neither, or some other other 'nother secret superpower stuff,
but i'm caught in some sort of spell.
spellbound, they call that, right? makes sense.
it doesn't even matter what we're doing.
if she's near me, i feel better.
what the F* even is that?
who is made out of passive-effect medicine for mediating maniac-attackin' madmen??
i guess breezy is.
she gives me a whole bunch of feels.
i just think it's worth mentioning that i get all welled-up with sentiment and stuff.
it's all really happening,
the positive power of that lady creates a connection that feels bigger than anything ordinary.
then again, that's what being special IS, huh?
there you have it;
never quiet, never soft.....