Thursday, January 18


y'ever have one of those mornings where it's basically still yesterday,
as far as your body is concerned?
for the quantity and/or quality of sleep you've gotten,
you may as well still be just living out one long day?
it gets a little blurry around the edges,
and that calls for focus, friends.
i mean,
we can't just hazily phase in and out of wakefulness,
eschew restful slumber away in favor of attentive attrition and exhaustion,
fixate on the nagging needling knife-edged nihilism 
instead of diving deep into the deliverance of decipherable dreamland, 
and then be expected to be our best selves for the rest of the day...
the call is for focus,
and you already know how i center myself, don't you?
i bake the treats that bring it all together.
i do.
creating calls for increasing one's capacity to adapt and invent, man.
and it's hard not to perk up when that's the point of the exercise.
i'm serious.
no matter how groggy and foggy and temporal fugue'd up i get,
cake is there to lift me up.
and lately, 
i've been kinda skimping and skipping out on cakes.
i have.
but my desire NOT to be a great big bellied battle barrel
has been bested by the immediacy of gathering up my wits and sh!ts,
and perking my little brainy-brain back to red-alertness!
what i mean is:
welcome back, cake!
check the teleport:
this jauns is good for your soul.
and your mouth and whatever, too.
you want some?
come on by the AMPERSAND TATTOO studio, 
and you can have some.
oh, ok.
in that case,
here's the recipe, so you can still have some, 
without having to leave the comfort of your own home:
preheat your oven to 365℉
in a medium mixing bowl, as always, cream up:
1 stick (8T) vegan earth balance butter;
1 cup plain vegan sugar;
1/2 tsp salt;
1 tsp vanilla.
when that's completely blended, add:
1 cup non-dairy sour cream;
2 1/4 cups a.p. flour;
1 tsp each baking powder and soda;
1 tsp lemon zest;
1 cup non-dairy milk.
spatula flips and flops should blend that completely, but not too aggressively
if you're lookin' to get that real authentic grandma crumb.
spread it into a 9" greased springform pan,
and get yourself some corn-syrup-free raspberry jam.
that's the stuff.
i scooped out half a jar's worth on top, in sloppy blops, evenly spaced out from the center.
it wasn't pretty, but they were destined to get covered by the crumble topping anway.
i hope you didn't wash your cake bowl already,
because you can use it to make the streusel, bro.
cut in and crush up:
3-4 T vegan butter;
1/2 cup quick oats;
1/4 cup oat flour;
pinch of salt;
1/4 cup finely-ground coconut flakes;
1/3 cup powdered sugar;
lemon zest.
cut it until it's all clumped up, and spread it all around that ring of cakey batter.
bake it all for 45ish minutes, or until a tester comes out clean from the center.
at this point, while it was still warm, and the top was still pliable,
i tucked in a handful of dried raspberries amongst the crOmbleblumps.
i think that was an expert move.
there's no way i was going to let myself start slipping, man.
and the best part?
i remained alert for the rest of the day.
i attribute it at least 50% to bakey cake makery,
and maybe the other 50% to obsessive overanalysis of events in my immediate world.
the cake, at least, left a great taste in my mouth.
i will admit to being less-than-capable at diplomacy.
it's true.
i'm not very interested in compromises,
and i'm definitely not a fan of promises, either.
you're all always going to lose with either of those options.
not very diplomatic.
what you want and what you need and what you're willing to accept 
are NOT always interchangeable.
what matters more?
i'd argue that acceptance is the determining factor for setting value. 
if you need X, but you want Y, yet you'll take Z....???
well, then Z is the currency you're trading in.
and the exchange rate is likely going to be prohibitive when considering wants and needs.
does that make sense?
X is the median value;
but, only when regarded relative to the extremes- 
Y being ideal, Z being undesirable.
now, what are you willing to accept?
and what is the cost in the interim?
if you settle for Z, you're not even getting what you need,
and you're that much farther away from what you want.
if you fill the necessity with X, 
can you ever really be happy knowing Y is out there, 
just out of reach, but specifically because of an unwillingness or incapacity to grasp it?
that sort of awareness keeps me up at night,
and i have a feeling that there's likely to be a whole lot more cake needed 
in order to quell the morning's disquiet and motionlessness sickness.
maybe that's the point?
to push the production up to towards grabbing for X,
nailing it,
and then taking it to XI.
that's that P.M.A. at play at least for today;
never quiet, never soft.....

Wednesday, January 17


taco tuesday is tight.
taco bowl tuesday is also tight,
albeit maybe just a little baby bit less so.
i dunno.
could be they have comparable grips on deliciousness.
you tell me:

s'good, or nah?
i mean,
there's a whole bunch of stuff heaped in that bowl,
and everything by itself is F*ing expert,
so i s'pose the sum of the parts is even MORE elite....
i ate the heck out of it,
and the took down a whole other 'nother 'nother bowl, right after.
too much is the right amount, after all.
what's in it?
well, the rice has lime zest and juice in there,
and it's delicately citrusy.
the quick mixed pickles are, as always, the right call.
rules is rules, neighbors-
and it's been established as law that the pickles show up during taco times.
i took an in-progress shot:

...and that's why i don't do it that often.
stay ugly, eat beautiful.
i believe in that;
but, i think that it's reserved for just the finished product,
because that pot is funky af, man.
it's also fragrant in the best way,
and twice as flavorful as it is busted-lookin'.
...sorta like y'boi.
apple cider vinegar, raw sugar, pink salt, red onion, purple carrot, radish, and jalapeno,
boiled up and cooled down.
y'know- the usual.
there's the rice on one side,
and a handful of exxxtra-crisp lettuce on the other,
the pickles are hangin' out,
and so is that pico de gallo.
it's minced red onion,
hybrid brown and regular red sweet tomatoes,
a little baby bit of poblano,
a scoop of scallion and cilantro,
lime juice, salt and pepper.....
that's good for you, like eagles' eggs, without harming endangered species, bro.
scallion, red onion, jalapeno, and cilantro sprankles all stopped by, too.
after all, if there aren't spranks, y'all bowls ain't for sh!t, dudes.
real talk.
the little spritzles really turn it up to eleven.
that's a thing.
the bowl as a whole was great,
but the real boomfire fuego-a-go-go were the chili chickpeas and cauliflower powerbomb!
look a this stuff, friends:

how do we recreate it at home?
pretty easily, as a matter of fact-
 in a non-stick pa, on high-ish heat,
toss together
2 cloves of crushed garlic;
1/4 cup minced onion,
and a few cups of chopped cauli-florets,
and let 'em get a little baby bit brown, with maybe a tablespoon of olive oil...
next, spice 'em up halfway-
that means 1 tsp each Garlic Powder and Onion Powder,
plus 2 tsp smoked paprika and 1 tsp hot paprika and 1/4 tsp cayenne,
plus oregano, and 2 T fire-roasted tomato flakes-
sizzle that up for a minute or two,
derglaze the crisp bits with 1 T apple cider vinegar,
then add 12 oz. drained and rinsed chick peas,
salt, pepper, a tsp of sugar and 1 T+ of sriracha!!
it basically red stuff on beige stuff, until everything gets pretty orange.
you aren't ready for this much taste attacking your buds, bud,
but you won't be able to go back again once you get a little bite
and last, but abso-lutely not least,
there's the big action activation,
and showstoppin' jaw-and-panty dropper:
y'all weren't ready for this much hottness.
i've told you guys about my guac scene before,
but as it's a new year,
and there's so much to be said for how expert this stuff is,
i'll tell you one more mutha-F*ing time:
in a big glass bowl, because those look sexxxy, toss together:
1/4 cup tiny minced red, orange, and yellow sweet mini bell peppers
(the small ones DO taste different, dudes, but you can use the regular ones, too obvi);
1/2 minced red onion;
2 T minced poblano;
1/2 minced jalapeno;
one handful chopped cilantro;
2-3 cloves pressed garlic;
2 T scallion a.k.a. green onions a.k.a shoutouts to booker t;
a big shake of GPOP, pink salt, and black pepper,
plus a heavy squeeze of lime AND lemon.
lemon for preservative acid activation,
and lime for the big yums.
toss all that yup,
and mash in 3 avocados, blending everything up nicey-nice,
then stuffing the its back in the pulped-up jumble to stall the brown-out for a bit.
you need this in your life.
the multi-colored chips were a pretty touch, but any chips would've been a boon
to the scoop-up shoveling of this stuff into your face!
that's no joke.
good guac is like good decisions-
most people don't know what the eff that even means-
and the ones who do can't ever really tolerate anything less...
that's funny because it's true.
determination versus determinism versus termination.
that's heavy stuff to think about.
making and following through on decisions, even when they are hard?
that's determination.
that's awesome, and rare, and one of the traits i prize most highly in others.
the notion that  previous events sequentially stacked, predict inevitable outcomes,
following rational pathways, so that what we think is free will
is just cause and effect, invariably shaped by prior events
influencing future circumstances is what we call determinism,
or at least, how it can be roughly defined.
so can the former overcome the latter?
well, yes, for sure.....if you don't believe in logic.
and then again, the answer is still maybe,
if you believe that organic evolution is a response to environmental necessities.
you adapt to the situation at hand, or you perish.
and termination is just what happens when you choose NOT to continue,
or you fail at it.
so, which is it that makes the most sense?
and what's it gonna be?
well, for me,
it's always the harder way, every damned day.
determination could be futility or it could be the key to overcoming and breaking
the strings the fates have tied to us....
if that's a thing.
i'm not really sure, to be honest.
i do know this:
if you give up,
you're just admitting that what you've got is what you deserve;
instead of getting up, and trying harder, and earning something greater.
giving up, and accepting less?
man, that means you're just settling,
....and that's NOT invited.
aren't we better than that?
the plot may be predictable, or it might have a whole lot of twists,
but it's still all really happening,
and that's the whole point.
no matter what, and whatever comes next,
we have to try to be our best selves,
like, don't we, though, for real?
otherwise we're wasting time,
and there's just not enough of that for us to be frivolous with.
the question is-
do we have a choice, or is it all unfolding along undeterrable developmental designs?
i need to think we can steer our course and become what we want to be,
but the truth is:
nature wins.
and there are patterns in all of nature,
so it stands to reason that there are patterns overlapping and influencing everything else, too.
if there is no test to pass, and no function to follow form,
i'm still choosing that hard way.
to be the MOST me i can be, in the best possible light.
i want to believe it's of my own free will.
if not,
then the secret universal architects provided blueprints to my reality-
it would seem they're instructions on how to build a bomb shelter;
never quiet, never soft.....

Tuesday, January 16


truly caring is like being a tetherball.
you get all wrapped up and pummeled.
and there's only so far you can travel when you aren't being beaten back.
the thing of it is-
NOT caring makes you an A*-hole,
and we all know how uncool that is.
what do we do, dudes?
we sign up for yet another 'nother back-and-forth bash-up,
where we eventually get tied down and lose all our momentum.
i care, even when i don't know why.
and what i worry about, for real, is that i'll be too distracted by that investment
to adequately and adeptly discharge my duty when it comes time to 
represent expert Folk Life & Liberty kitchen hottness, 
and having that turn to sh!t after a long day of giving a sh!t .
c'mon, dudes!
i can't be havin' my food effed up by emotional investments, bro.
no way.
i can live without a lot,
but i'm not trying to exist in a world without radical vegan boomfire for my face.
if i didn't care, none of this would even be happening.
unconventional intentional active participation is what i live for.
it's why i'm vegan.
and why i don't F*ing drink.
it's why i don't bother with small talks and pointless pleasantries.
and it's why i put so much effort into all the littlest things-
it's ALL really happening, and there's no time to waste on weak sauce, man.
i want that really realness, 
and no back-and-forth beat-ups and beat-downs will mute or dilute 
the bass-boosted breakbeats of y'boi's hot fiery furnace, 
nor thin out the high-test ammonia-and-acid piss 'n' vinegar 
of the salty, iron-rich molto-magma pumpin' around inside my veins-
i care a LOT.
and that sometimes makes the whole world into a cruel and ugly place.
and circumstances can add up to a great big cauterized caterwauling cavern
where optimism used to sit... 
on the ones,
the last thing i wanted to do last night was make dinner,
so y'know what i did?
i made DINNER.
check the teleport:
no lame breaks or excuses, kids,.
in fact, i double-battered my blops!
and i baked my own buns!
there is no good reason not to just be dope.
not one.
and that's the truth. 
and spicy, smoky deep-freid cajun cauliflower po'boys are DOPE.
i'll tell you all about it right now:
in a medium saucepot, heat up 2" of vegetable oil to medium-high heat.
i have no idea what the temperature is, that's not my area, kids.
in a pair of big bowls, we have to make a dredge and a flour-
bowl one is the dredge:
1 cup non-dairy milk;
1 T ground flax/chia meal;
1 tsp egg replacer;
3 T ho'sauce.
and bowl two is the breading:
1 1/4 cups flour;
1 tsp ea. Garlic Powder and Onion Powder....
1 T smoked hot paprika;
plus a whole mess of spices-
oregano, cayenne, pink salt, black pepper, basil, sage, thyme, and ground mustard,
whisked in, to taste, as you see fit.
you've gotta cut up about half a head of cauliflower into chunks-
(this made two sandwiches, btw)
dunk 'em deep, coating all the crevices in that thick wetness,
then roll 'em around just as thoroughly in the flour.... 
and then do it again.
DOUBLE-battering is the key.
too much is the right amount....
this stuff is crazy good.
i had to fry it in two batches, for about five minutes apiece, 
but holy sh!t, it was expert af.
and on homemade fresh-baked soft and hearty bread?
F* yeah.
preheat your oven to 400℉
in your ol' reliable stand mixer, combine:
2 cups flour;
2 tsp salt;
3 T vegan butter;
1 pkg yeast;
2 T sesame seeds,
and add 3/4 cup warm water + 1 T sugar, + 1 tsp bread machine yeast, bloomed.
knead it for eight minutes, let it rise, covered for fifteen,
then divide and shape it into 4 long rolls,
and let those proof for another 15-20 minutes, 
before making them for yet another twenty minutes, or until they're golden and luscious.
you'll need pickles on your sandwich, because those jauns always make it better.
and shredded salad stuff, or course-
this one is green and purple cabbage, radicchio, scallions, 
parsley and cilantro, with lemon juice.
we got thin-sliced red onion up on it, too.
and there's sririacha to activate that back-end heat......
but it's that dill-mayo-rancho spread that turns it up to eleven.
2 T vegenaise, 
a heavy shake of GPOP, fresh parsley, lemon, and dill for the win!!!
and then there's potato wedges with MORE rancho-belgiano sauce?!?!
come ON, friends.
and all of this on NO motivation at all,
just the understanding that if you want that P.M.A., you can have that P.M.A....
but you don't get it by being an A*-hole, man.
you've got to do something.
rules is rules
and when the things you dread become the things that confront you,
what's the right answer?
that's easy: the answer is MORE. 
never ever ever ever giving up,
and then turning up the level of interactive investment,
so that the limits are constantly expanding....
that's warrior poetry, that's what i'm on about,
that's. my. sh!t. bro. 
it's really that simple, and that demanding, and that difficult.
but the only way to get it is to do it;
never quiet, never soft.....

Monday, January 15


it'd been waaay too long,
and the urge was waaaay too strong,
and if loving chick peas is wrong,
then you know i'm going left af because i don't wanna be right, dudes.
that's word.
now, what's good?
three syllables:
damned straight.
homemade from-scratch all-natural good-good hottness for your face,
fried up and folded snug in a set of sexxxy soft flatbreads.
falafel is in the top three best ones.
i almost can't believe i haven't made any myself in such a long span of time.
but it's here,
and it's hot,
and it's spicy,
and it's expert,
and sometimes, that's all you need.
check the teleport:

so good.
i started the actual falafel ball batter before work.
i wanted to make sure it was firm, and set, and ready for suppertime.
you want the recipe?
you got it:
in a food processor (you wanna do it by hand? here's my advice: don't!)
1/4 cup chick pea flour;
2 T a.p. flour;
1 1/2 tsp ea Garlic Powder and Onion Powder;
2 large cloves garlic;
1/4 cup shallot;
a loose scoop of parsley;
a loose scoop of cilantro;
1 T crushed red pepper flakes;
2 T lemon juice;
3 T olive oil;
1 15 oz can chick peas;
cumin, coriander seed, thyme, and sumac to taste;
salt and pepper;
1 T egg replacer;
1 T sesame seeds;
1 T ground flax/chia meal...
pulverize all of that into a coarse paste,
and pack it away for the day so it can all bind and bond and adhere to itself,
to be rolled into balls, and fried, without falling apart later on.
we made mega-marble-sized jauns, and ended up with over sixty of em.
that's tight,
because MORE balls is what everybody wants, right?
the oil was HOT.
how many degrees?
man, i'm not a thermometer....let's just say there were a LOT of 'em.
and those little jammie-jams got crispy as hell and stayed soft in the centers,
and had 111% of the desired flavor.
basically, they brought the A-game to our mouthpieces,
and for that, we devoured them.
while the balls are the star, they wouldn't be sh!t without the supporting cast,
and that's no joke.
those pan-fried flatbreads?
they ARE what's happenin', bro.
here's the recipe:

in a medium mixing bowl, sift together:
2 cups a.p. flour;
1 tsp salt;
2 T sesame seeds;
1 T baking powder;
1 tsp baking soda;
3 T vegan sour cream;
3 T olive oil;
1/2 cup warm water.
knead it up, adjust your flour if necessary, knead it some more,
form it into a ball, and rest it.
while you're at it, heat up a large skillet over high flames or electric whatevers,
until it's HOT.
on a floured surface, cut your dough into 6-8 pieces,
depending on your preferred size vs quantity ratio of falafel sandwiches,
and roll each piece out into a thin circle,
and let it puff up in that skillet, with just one flip after a few minutes,
and then an equal little toastin' on the other side.
y'boi nate handled that for me while i prepped all our fixin's.
now, we have balls, and we have bread, so now all that's left to discuss
are all the accessories that turn it up to eleven.
there's the salad-
that's a cup of chopped curly parsley;
a cup of chopped cilantro;
a punch of thin-shaved scallion (green onion);
a handful of ribboned radicchio;
salt, and lemon juice.
it's perfect.
we've got pepperoncinis. (aka those peppaseenuses)
and pickled jalapenos.
and pickles.
plus a heavy schmear of hummus.
but, also, there're paper-thin red onion rings,
and tiny slices of tiny sweet grape tomatoes,.
yeah, neighbors, we rep ALLL the exxxtras.
i mean, you know us:
too much is the right amount.
and there's sriracha for that slow heat,
and tahini to smootherize the whole damned shootin' match-
i use a lot of GPOP, and almost all lemon juice,
with only a little teeny tiny splash of warm water
to stir up my most excellent tahini sauce.
for realsies-
sesame paste is already so flavorful;
but it's even MORE magical with powerfully flavorful activators.
i need that, so i do that, and we have than, and it's SO good.
and really just because rules is rules,
we freaked 'em off with those sumac sprankles!
check it:

how F*ing turned-up and turned on are those falafels?!?!
and with exxxtra lemon,
and exxtra 'roncinis,
AND a few spears of nate's custom lacto-fermented dill picky-picks???
we are basically superheroes of food,
and we're saving the day in great big bites.
everything about dinner was amazing
so why'd it take months to get back in the good graces of the gonzo garbanzo gods?
i think it's the hot oil that makes me hesitate.
oh. no, not for any health reasons, or for fear of fire or burns-
that's not me, man.
i just hate the airborne fatty-boombatty splats of liquid lipids
sticking to everything in my kitchen,
and then just hanging out all used and gross in a pot until i figure out how to get rid of it.
i don't like that.
i guess i might just have to fry up some battered cauliflower hot wings,
or somethin' similarly styled for tonight's suppertime 'spolsions.
waste not, want not, use it up, wear it out, make do, or do without.....
it's a trite vermont saying that applies to very few things in my life-
but vegetable oil is on the short list, for sure.
don't be an A*-hole, and don't do A*-hole things.
no joke, i tell myself that every single morning.
and i listen to myself.
and, most importantly,
i adjust, and edit, and amend my behavior,
in order to unearth and excavate my deepest, dopest rare-earth self
from under the trash-heap of humanity it's encased in.
i'm nothin' special,
but i sure do want to be.
i span my time applying one overarching principle to every frickin' day-
just be dope, or F* right off.
i say that often, but it never ever doesn't apply.
you want that P.M.A.?
you can have that P.M.A.,
but you've gotta adhere to the plan,
and the plan we're working is super simple-
be dope, dudes.
or else you've gotta F* off.
and F*ing off isn't actually an option,
because it's all really happening all around us,
and nobody gets to control the universe.
we're the only ones in charge of how we act and react
to the unfolding secret universal blueprints
as they present obstacles and opportunities.
so act like you're not an A*-hole, and you won't be one.
it's actually that simple,
and it goes for you, me, and everyone we know.
i know what i'm dong today,
even if i don't have any idea what i'm doing today;
never quiet, never soft.....

Sunday, January 14


i made some cake.
it's probably the last thing i need, if we're being honest,
but it's first and foremost among the reliable constants in my life.
i think it up, make it happen, bake it off, and chow it down,
all without the input or interference of anybody else.
it's my thing, and it works well, and works out mainly because
i adhere to my dedicated and determined regimen and routine.
that's real.
i'm NOT fun, kids.
it's ok, though.
it's an informed choice.
i don't want to dump any time down the 'fun toilet', because that sh!t is a waste.
y'feel that?
for real, i'm definitely not fun, though.
no way.
instead, i'm just very busy being very busy,
with the added boring chore of being productive throughout my time away from witnesses-
which is to say i'm a noisy tree uprooting myself at timed intervals in a deserted forest-
hence the real-life documentation on this little corner of the electrointerverse,
to record any echoes of those EVP for posterity....
when i'm at work, there's always an object and and objective, 
objectionable gestures, and conjecture-
there's also collaboration and communication and corroboration.
morning bakery time is more like MY own personal time.
thinking, making, creating, all by myself, all out of my own labor, from mind, to hands,
from concept to execution to outcome.
it's all really happening because i'm making it happen.
and cake is not a waste of time, or ingredients,
and it's such a worthy investment, it even expands waists.
word up.
so like i mentioned at the top-
i made a cake.
and here it is:
no point worrying about fun when you're deeply involved in exxxploding some awesomess
out of your head and into a springform pan, man.
word up.
it's really just an extra-spongy, muffinish cake,
but with the added activation of those dual dollop blops across the surface.
that's how you turn it up to eleven, guys.
for real.
the cake part is simple:
preheat your oven to 360℉
in a medium mixing bowl, cream:
1 cup sugar;
1/2 tsp salt;
1 stick (8T) vegan butts;
2 tsp vanilla.
stir in:
2/3 cup non-dairy vegan yogurt.
2 1/4 cups flour;
1 tsp ea. bakin' ka-pow-powder and soda;
and finally stir it all up with;
1 cup non-dairy milk.
like i said, that's simple.
add it to a greased 9" springform pan,
and cover it with the peanuttinesses.
here's the recipe for those:
in a small saucepan, on low heat, melt up:
3 T peanut butter;
1/2 tsp vanilla;
4 T vegan creamchee';
3 T powdered sugar;
3 T non-dairy milk.
how flippin' simple is that?!?
spoon about half that onto the cake batter,
then, turn it into chocolate peanut butter paste like this:
add a handful of chocolate chips to what's left in the pot.
that's it.
finish spreading it,
and bake that baddie for around 35-45 minutes.
that's it.
cake, with HUGE flavor, and moist crumb,
and crisp bits, and fluff, and happiness at every turn.
you can't really come up with a reason (food allergies aside) NOT to make it.
it's good for you,
and it's good for everyone else too.
it seems as if my absolute un-fun-ness may also create a pattern 
which allows for circumnavigation of the safeguards around my sensibilities.
like, in a video game- 
when you decipher the rhythm of the lasers or whatever,
so that you can slip past the alarms undetected?
i think it's like that...
i've got a LOT of attention focused on making things,
so it might seem like i'm not noticing the glaring gaps in good judgement
that take a few laps around elapsed-timespans.
but that's just the thing, kids.
...i'm watching out.
the EVP of this remotely-monitored unseen effort has a message in it.
i repeat myself.
i repeat myself.
it's all really happening,
and that's up to us to decode;
never quiet, never soft.....

Saturday, January 13


i had a whole long day full of yelling about stuff.
not angrily, not happily, not even with any particular theme or motivation...
it was just loud, fresh, hardness for your face,
all day long.
i had tattoos poppin',
i had people laughin',
i had heads shakin',
i had cake gettin' eaten,
and then,
at the end of my workday i had nothin' left,
and some powerful hunger gnawing at my reserves and my resolve and my reason...
fortunately, i also had a pair of graffiti eggplants in the fridge,
with their thin purple and white striped skins, and dense, soft, unpithy flesh.
skins-on is how i doo-doo my eggplant,
and i doo-doo my eggplant in quantity, and quality,
with a dredge, bread, fry, stack, bake process that jus can't be beat.
for realsies.
check the teleport:

legit, those're staxxx on staxxx on staxxx,
with th'underchee' and daiya and sauce in between each tier.
and the sauce IS homemade.
the eggplant was perfect, and that's no joke.
is there a secret to making succulent, crisp-edged melt-in-your mouth amazingness?
there might be a few, actually,
but i'll happily share what i've learned with you-
slice your eggplant into discs 1/4" thick or less.
you can leave the skins on if you use the smaller, sexier, italianier ones.
those great big seedy, pithy purple d!ck emoji jauns are NOT invited, bro.
those are for baba ganoush and little else in my world.
i hit 'em heavy with the salt, on a wire rack, over the sink,
and let 'em produce that bitter black water that bubbles up and out of their interior-
a quick rinse, and a gentle paper towel pat-dry,
and your circles are ready for breading.
you've gotta get your activated eggless batter ready-
you'll need 1 cup of non-dairy milk, 1 T ground chia/flaxmeal blend,
1 T nootch, and 1 T egg replacer, all whisked and allowed to thicken up.

and you're gonna wanna have a superflavorful herb-crusty dredgeable flour-power, next:
it's 1 cup crushed cornflakes, 3 T flour, 3 T cornstarch,
plus GPOP, oregano, thyme, basil, salt, black pepper, nootch, and crushed red pepper...
you put it in the wet, then dump it on both sides in the dry,
and fry it up in HOT vegetable oil in a big ol' skillet.
they get good and crispy, and especially soft and succulent at the same time.
this recipe made two pretty big towers of delicious,
so be prepared for multiple panfuls of frying...
there's also the matter of the SAUCE.
and the SAUCE is the unifying force that bonds it all together.
that's real.
in a big-little saucepot,
saute 1/2 an onion, minced;
2 cloves of sliced garlic;
one small peeled, minced carrot;
GPOP, salt, pepper;
a tablespoon of red wine vinegar;
a tablespoon of soy sauce;
1 cup chopped tomato;
a punch of nutritional yeast;
1 1/2 cup crushed tomatoes-
seriously, i didn't even add any extra herbs!
and it was STILL amazing.
i had it bubbling while my oven preheated to 380℉,
and i laid it down heavy on the bottom of a baking pan.
then i dropped eggplant, thinned and garlicky th'underchee',
minced daiya mozzarella, and MORE sauce,
then eggplant, again, and all the other stuff, again,
and then another, and another 'nother layer, and finally some MORE SAUCE!!!
i baked 'em while the water boiled for spaghetti,
and i took out the eggplant and drained the pasta,
and plated it all up with a scoop of sauce in between,
and a little arugula,
and some parsley sprankles, because rules is rules,
and spranks are awesome.
word up.
that's a LOT of carbs, but we don't keep count around here.
in fact,
i added that slice of homemade sourdough to soak up any stray sauce,
because too much is the right amount,
and taking it easy is for chumps.
it was realllllly freakin' good.
it IS time consuming, which is not my favorite part-
but, then again, my friday nights are not the drama-and adventure-filled debacles
of ordinary 9-5 weekenders enjoying time away from work.
that's for young people and unimaginative adults who need
to escape their ordinary lives for forty eight hours of irresponsible idiocy.
that ain't me, dude.
i've got sh!t to DO.
so instead of effing around,
i'm on the every-damned-day grind,
even at nighttime as dinnertime turns into a F*ing project.
i'm busy being a person who creates things.
and i'm reppin' the always-o'clock-shift,
which never ever really stops and never really ever sleeps.
fridays, i'm in LOVE, bro...
with making the minutes count for something.
my mornings are glorious,
my days are full,
my nights are delights,
and it's ALL really happening,
for which i count myself among those worthies of warrior poets.
real life documentarianism as a firsthand narrative is my saga,
and it's getting, longer, louder, fresher, and harder than ever before;
never quiet, never soft.....

Friday, January 12


dark chocolate.
like a double-fudge brownie.
have i got your attention?
i hope so.
i made a cake.
well, yes, you're right- that's not in and of itself impressive.
i do make a LOT of cake.
but, this cake was different.
i mean it.
it's rich, it's thick, it's deep, it's dark, and it's got ALLL the chocolate hottness,
and three times the raspberry activation of those that've come before it.
i made some mutha-F*ing expert chocolate sexxxy-sexxx,
and i need you to just look at it:

so much chocolate.
and so much good-lookin' luxurious extra-sexxxiness.
i don't always get the feels when i have a slice of cake,
but i sure as sh!t got some exxxtra-large emotions over this one.
real talk.
the edges got crisp like a brownie.
the interior was deep moist decadent devilish-style darkness.
the top is pure melted berry-infused ganache boomfire,
with cacao nibs,
AND shaved dark chocolate,
AND three kinds of frosting,
AND freeze-dried raspberries.
too much is the right amount.
so, do i practice what i preach, bro?
you tell me.
i can't adequately detail how dope this one is.
but i can accurately detail how you might make it at home.
so, let's start with that:
preheat your oven to 365℉
in a medium mixing bowl, cream together:
1 stick (8T) vegan butter;
1 overpack'd cup dark brown sugar;
1/2 tsp salt;
2 tsp vanilla;
next, fold in:
1/2 cup unsweetened applesauce.
mix well,
and sift in:
1/2 cup cocoa mixed in with 2 cups flour;
and 1 tsp ea. bakin' powder and soda.
add 1 cup non-dairy milk,
and stir well until it's all combined, and battered-up.
pour that thickness into a 9" greased springform pan,
and bake it for 30-40 minutes, or until cracks form across the top and center.
it's ok, and actually even preferred, if it's just this side of finished-
so that it's got that fudgy brownie middle that makes all the ladies swoon,
and the gentlemen twirl their moustaches.
when i'm letting 'em cool, i pop the spring on the form immediately,
so it can air out more,
before i flip it onto a rack and let it decrease in temperature even further.
then it's time to decorate, and i LOVE that part.
vegan ganache is basically melted dark chocolate and a non-dairy milk emulsifier.
you can fancy it up with vanilla,
and activate some powdered sugar, too, to create a smoother, firmer finish.
i do those things.
i also added 1 T powdered freeze-fried raspberry dust to 3/4 cup dark chocolate chips,
and 2 T soymilk, with 1 tsp vanilla,
and melted it all over low heat before adding 1/2 cup thawed frozen raspberries,
and crushing those into that hot melted black lava.
that's what's all over the top, and it's over the top, but nowhere near far enough-
cacao nibs added crunch.
the shaved chocolate just looks tight af.
i had that light chocolate frosting, and that betterthanevercreme form my berfday cake,
but i whipped up some no-measurement chocolate raspberry jauns that blew my mind
right out of the top of my head.
that's no joke.
my consciousness was floating above me while my body
continued to shave chocolate into the mixer....
dried raspberry powder, a tablespoon of grated choxxx,
a dash of vanilla, a fat pat of vegan butts,
and powdered sugar by the approximated cupful, whisked to high heaven-
and the very next thing you know,
you've got mauve magic making every single part of your life a little better.
wordimus prime.
you like how i added those dried raspberries to freak it off?
me too.
it's the exxxtras that make it expert, man.
rules is rules.
i'm pressed for time.
i'm stressed for time.
i can't stress enough that time is the most valuable commodity we've got.
and time is money.
and money is time.
and the way we spend both had better be improving our circumstances,
or we're misspending both.
my good buddy beau hit me with something like that,
and it's stuck with me since-
you'd think that barely sleeping would help, and it does,
but only inasmuch as what i get done in those moments i'm awake.
there's more to do, more to make, more to eat, more to say, more to see,
more to be, and i don't know where i can fit any more into each day.
here's the catch-
i have to be in specific places, for specific durations, and when i'm there,
there's a limit to what can happen in those exact locations.
and until i ca be in two places at once, or three, or four,
i'm unlikely to be satisfied with what i accomplish in one span of dark-light-dark-again.
i'm not stopping,
i'm not relaxing,
i'm definitely not vacationing;
i'm making a hell of a go of it,
and until there's nothing left to do,
i'm just going to keep grinding myself down to dust.
every minute counts,
and i'm counting every minute;
never quiet, never soft.....


pizza is too damned good.
no, you don't understand-
i'm sayin' that pizza is better than everything else.
...and i'm not kidding.
we want pizza.
we get pizza.
it's the actual practical best part of being an unbeholden adult with a kitchen full of supplies.
think i'm joking?
think again, neighbors.
i got home from an underimpressive workday,
and i more than made up for it with some fast-actin' breadstick-style dough
which i transformed into a fat rectangle of fresh veggies, crushed tomatoes,
with two kinds of non-dairy chee'!
yeah, man.
i needed somethin' to turn up the volume on the day
and bestow some big, hot, crispy, high-intensity positivity
onto the remaining hours back home at the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress.
i made somethin' that always brightens the horizon, and blasts my bellyhole with satisfying benevolence.
if you only like one kind of pizza, i think your face is a real dumb one,
and i don't like you anymore.
real talk.
we made a two-for-one on a wrecked rectangle of stretched semi-semolina high-gluten goodness,
and it was F*ing awesome.
check the teleport:

gimme pizza!!
no day with pizza in it is a bad one, because there was hope and crust and sauce ready
to encourage a little more optimism no matter what.
brussels, seitan bacon, and onion?!
y'got your braised brussies, glazed at the last with a splash of soy;
y'got that slightly-seared seitan bacon-
dudes, that sh!t was storebought.
i'd never experienced upton's bacon game before,
and i'm glad i did.
in fact, i prefer their bacon over their standard seitan,
and i would get it again.
...just in case you wondered where i stand on that;
but, getting back to delicious expert vegan pizza:
caramelized vidalia onions;
crushed tomatoes OVER daiya mozzarella, with MORE daiya mozz' on top,
and then custom cashew-garlic tofu th'underchee' drizzled across the whole entire surface,
for maxxxium exxxplosive over-the-top flavor bursting from edge to edge and back again!!
too much is the right amount, kids.
that's real.
radicchio ribbons, for bite and color,
and fried garlic sprankles, because rules is rules,
and up here, if it there aren't any f.g.s. then it's just not right.
anybody can make a decent pizza if they've got the time and the ingredients.
the big power-points?
* good dough.
* a hot oven.
* a baking stone.
really, though, that's where it starts.
get your oven up to a HOT temperature.
i rep 480℉+ in a circulatory convection home oven,
and i'd go hotter still in a wood-fired manlier one.
what's that now? does the saturated stone really matter?
man, c'mon.
it's in the top three powerpoints.
of course it matters.
heat distribution and a consistent transfer to the bottom of the dough
is as vital as the circulating air that's crispin' up the tops of those brussies, bro.
it's a thing, and it matters, so get one, and use it, and see for yourself.
the dough can vary greatly from pizza to pizza, traditional, to sicilian,
grandma to deep dish-
fast bulk, slow proof, vice-versa, and everything in-between.
the main thing is to use the right dough for the right pizza.
this one was a fast-and-dirty no-proof direct-fire breadstick-style grannie jaun,
and it was also a F*ing delight to bite into.
here's the recipe:
in your stand mixer, which you hopefully have because they're the best thing ever, combine:
2 cups flour;
1 cup semolina flour;
1 tsp wheat gluten;
2 1/2 tsp salt;
1 pkg fast-action rapid-rise yeast;
2 tsp sugar;
3 T olive oil;
add 2/3 cup hot water, with 1/3 cup non-dairy milk, + 2 tsp bread machine yeast,
with 1 tsp agave stirred all together and bloomed to where the yeast begins to bubble...
knead on setting 2, with a dough hook attached,
for seven or eight minutes, spread a little bitty baby bit of olive oil ever so lightly,
and cover with plastic on top of your preheating oven for ten minutes.
pull it, press it to the edges of a gently greased square pan,
and let it rise while the oven warms up, and your brussies brown...
the milky emulsifier makes this sh!t fluff the F* up, like a perfect breadstick,
only flat and wide and better.
i don't even time 'em anymore.
you'll know when it's ready,
because you're gonna wanna risk burning your face off
in a hot and heavy makeout session with that golden-kissed kissable crust
and there's still a whole other other 'nother second half of this pizza to talk about!!!
that homemade pesto was every bit as awesome the next day.
thinned just a tough, and spread thickly and evenly on side two of our doubleheader.
with caramelized onions, a little bitty bit of daiya,
and a whole bunch of halved sweet baby grape tomatoes, this one was molto flavorful.
the th'underchee really turned it up to eleven against that basil-almond burliness,
and a dash of that smashing seitan bacon brought in a whole no-jokes
smokily adult element of sophistication that gave me some emotions in some places....
when the radicchio and the kale floated down post bake, i knew i was falling in love.
so i did what i always do, dudes.
i devoured and destroyed it.
that's how it goes.
yes, of course the fried garlic sprankles were on that side, too.
what do you think i am?
an A-hole?
i'm a passionate and compassionate pizza producer,
and i don't eff around with that weak sauce.
not once, and not ever.
it's warmed up almost sixty degrees of fahrenheit heat,
but, while it's above freezing,
it's not warm,
and it is for sure not dry.
and what do we get when snow gets soft,
and then soaked and compressed?
that's riiiiight-
deathtrap destruction ice!
everything is slick and slippery,
and all of it is getting diamond-hard under the weight of itself.
if we're really lucky, a quick overnight drop in temperature
should have the entirety of the woodsly goodness careening of the beaten paths,
and sliding downhill with even the slightest of declines becoming
the most treacherous of downward spirals.
how's THAT for being more optimistic in 2018?
we're headed towards the bottom of the barrel,
but only because of gravity, and the elements.
who knows what sunken treasures may lie in wait for us down there?
not me,
but i think we're about to find out;
never quiet, never soft.....

Thursday, January 11


few ingredients, a little patience, and almost NO skill required.
i was kind of skeptical, too, dudes.
i mean, after all, it's superfancy unnecessariness that i'm usually chasing after-
yet this time around, i opted for complicating the back end,
and letting the up-front effort go with the flow...
that's real.
i'm talking about gnocchi.
that's nyawk-ee in case you were unsure how to say it.
it helps if you twirl your moustache while you're speaking,
because everything sounds better with a twirling moustachio, bro..
oh, and if you instinctively said guh-nah-chee?
you're fired.
pack your stuff, and get outta here.
ok. ok. OK.
potato dumpies that are also ribbed pasta-style barrels which are also delicious.
...and easy?
i'm almost ashamed of the relative simplicity of my dinnertime eliteness,
and the lack of stress in my kitchen while it was created.
honestly, as a matter of policy, in regards to the big, sexxxy luxury on my plate,
and the languid manner of production that was responsible for it,
i have to admit that i had a little bit of fun with this new experience.
eating gnocchi is good, but it turns out that making gnocchi is great.
all the accoutrements that accompanied those grumbly-dumples
were marginally more trouble than the main body of the meal.
yeah, man, that's no joke;
this was a big deal, with big flavors, but only a little bit of work.
check it out, via the molto-molto-type teleport:

g'head and drink in that vision, kids.
a from-scratch batch of my own favorite style of pesto,
a custom kitchen-made bowl of pasta-ish,
fried and toasted bits,
fresh leafy greens, and magentas,
and fried brown tomatoes...
holy sh!t.
this is the hottness, bro.
homemade pasta dough isn't difficult if you know what to expect-
gnocchi dough, on the other hand, is even simpler.
for real, it's just a big ol' heap of stuff, mooshed together, and shaped.
 y'wanna know just exactly HOW easy?
it's this easy:
in a medium-sized pot of salty water,
boil 5 medium sized potatoes with their skins still on for about 30 minutes.
drain and peel those bad boys while they're still hot,
and taking care not to scald or cut yourself, grate or rice them onto a kneading board.
sift over the top:
3/4 cup flour;
1/4 cup semolina flour;
1/2 tsp salt;
cut that into the warm potato shreds, add 2 T olive oil,
and gently, but firmly, pack and the flour and potato together until it forms
a dense, pasty, silly-puttyish log of starchy goodness.
divide it into sixths, roll each one into a 1/2" wide snake,
and cut those up into 1" lengths.
a quick roll on a fork will give 'em the traditional gnocchi lines,
but you've gotta be firm and fast, gentle rolling won't leave a mark,
and slow rolls erase the lines as you make 'em.
yeah. you're right. i really should document all the process.
it's the last thing on my mind when i'm cooking,
especially while rushing around with a glove protecting my still-damaged digit.
i'll have to enlist someone else's skills at photographic documentation for that part.
yeah, well, right....
at any rate, y'just toss those into a big ol' pot of hard boilin' salty water until they float,
and they're ready to rock.
a spoonful of that pasta water, to thin out a big scoop of pesto,
and those drained potato grub-butt-lookin' yummers, and you're a grand champ, easy as that.
of course, that's nowhere near enough, is it?
too much is the right amount.
and that pesto is too much to handle, kids.
in your food processor,
which is an indispensably necessary accessory of the modern age,
1/2 cup almonds (i used some thiqqq-sliced ones, because that's what i had on hand);
one extra-large bunch of basil leaf and stems;
1/2 cup parsley;
1/4 cup nutritional yeast;
1/4 cup olive oil;
2 cloves garlic;
pink salt; black pepper;
if it's too gritty, add more oil.
if it's too dense, drop in a splash of water.
puree the whole thing until it's a flippin' paste, which is what it's flippin' called, man.
there's not a lot to it, but there's so much happening.
it'll be heavy, but like i menetioned. you've gotta thin it out and toss it with the pasta.
pesto is expert. gnocchi are expert. we are expert.
that's a thing
toasted almonds for crunch?
damn. they're perfect. a little toothy crawnch in with all that squish.
olive oil-fried sliced garlic sprankles?
they compliment the almonds like fraternal twins.
bitter arugula under that savory pesto?
the elements are all aligning here, guys
charred brown tomatoes?
holy sh!t, the grilly blackness, the sweet brownness, the bright tomato flavor,
tucked in amongst a mouthful of everything else?
and what about those chiffonaded raddichio ribbons, huh?
isn't that s'kyooooot?!?
i know!
for a heap of blarpity blops covered in green gunk,
i sure do think this plate is lookin' hella lovely.
i even hit it with some microgreens, at kayla's urging,
and i'm glad i listened.
easy is one thing, but if those superfancy unnecessary jauns can be achieved,
well, rules is rules,
and complicating simplicity is what i do best.
i've been tattooing like a fool these days.
sharing time and space with some pretty good folks.
january, man.
who knew?
i'm assuming it's because it's an eleven year,
which probably only makes sense if you do secret universal mathematics....
which i'm adding up, and multiplying, and carrying the ones over on,
in order to attach meaning to this otherwise cruel cruel world.
like my man tommy corn says-
there's dust and gas there, there's us over here, and good and bad luck in the middle.
that's chaos. that's my b.
^^^y'need some order to things.
a series of sequential circles, overlapping and echoing like fibonacci spirals,
to make a pattern of predictable increases,
a cost-of-living adjustment,
a mutha-F*ing eleven year.
that's it.
this it it
it's right now,
and it's all really happening.
that's the whole point;
never quiet, never soft.....

Wednesday, January 10


tempeh taco tuesday time!!
temporally, the taco game arrives weekly, which is awesome.
i'm just sayin'-
i really love tacos,
so having an alliterative association with a specific day gives me some feels.
looking forward to tuesday seems a little weird,
in the same way that working seven days a week seems weird,
since that essentially means that tuesday is actually identical to every other day.
given the parameters of that comparison,
it IS weird except that there most likely will be a batch of from-scratch tacos
set up all sexxxy-like on the table, and that's pretty F*ing expert.
i came home from work,
and got to work.
that's what i DO.
i really wasn't feelin' it at first.
that's real.
it's impossible for me to be in a bad mood in the kitchen, kids.
that's real, too.
my favorite form of productivity is the one that fills my bellyhole with
all the new hottness.
and what's more, i'm getting more efficient and effective at whipping up
a whole messy mess of  superfire expertism with each and every batch-
i mean it-
check the teleport:

TEMPEH, dudes.
chunks of it, sauteed and sizzled in a smoky sauce.
that's what we needed, and that's what we had.
first, though, let me share a quick thought on salsa fresca and/or pico de gallo-
here it is: you need it.
tomato, red onion, cilantro, jalapeno, garlic, lime, salt and pepper.
you're a winner, just like that.
don't skip it, or you're gonna be a loser just as quickly.
back to that triple-grain fermented goodness-
tempeh hunks, with sauteed poblano and sweet onion,
sizzled for a few minutes in olive oil,
and then activated with a hot batch of wet 'n' wild flavor.
any real-deal experienced vegan food-nerd will tell you the same thing-
measuring is for suckers.
yeah, we'll list some imprecise approximations for the sake of the novices
looking for a little initiative and guidance,
but really, when the griddle is sizzlin', there is no little spoon factoring into
the saucification amplification sensation, man.
y'just FEEL it, and go with the feeling.
and i'm sincerely sorry for you if you don't catch those culinary feels.
no, i truly mean it.
there's a underlying unifying nourishing force that vibrates at a specific frequency,
but not all y'all are tuned into it.
...and that's a bummer,
because feeding yourself something incredible with no guidelines,
solely by using that sensate resonance to assemble the components into a coherent masterpiece
is some borderline midichlorian transcendence sh!t.
the sauce had a lot of the following in it:
soy sauce.
apple cider vinegar.
smoked paprika.
it also had a little oregano, and thyme, and GPOP.
not to mention a shake of sugar, a heavy-handed squeeze of lime,
and a half a cup of water, which helped the whole thing soften, hydrate, and saturate,
along with the acod of the vinegar that broke things down like science or something,
all before the sugar caramelized and sizzled the skins into perfect crispness.
you go with the feeling, folks.
and of course, you eat with your eyes first,
so when it LOOKS dope, it's likely to BE dope.
(...and it was SO dope. firm, but soft, but spicy, but savory, with a touch of sweet)
quick-pickled mixed veggies has become a standard around here.
i'm more than okay with that.
always with the radish, carrot, onion, jalapeno,
boiled in cider vinegar with salt and sugar until the peppers get olive-colored,
cooled and devoured in quantity.
i always make exxxtra, and there's never ever any left over.
that's a testimonial, huh?
there's sliced radish, and red and green lettuce,
and cilantro, scallion, and red onion sprankles on there, too-
and louisiana-style ho'sauce;
AND vegenaise/lime/cilantro Garlic Powder sauce-drizzies-
too much is the right amount,
and MORE filling in your soft flour tortilla situation is the best way to enjoy
a massive megadose of flavor for your face.
and let's make sure not to leave off any accolades for the great unifier.
refritas, bro.
refried beans.
a whole can of fat-free vegetarian blops,
dropped into a sizzling pot with 2 tablespoons of vegan butter,
3 tablespoons of minced onion,
1 tablespoon of diced jalapeno,
and then stirred around and activated with a generous shake of GPOP,
a hard punch of nutritional yeast,
and a whole bunch of glugs of that texas pete cayenne pepper sauce.
i LOVE refrieds.
i do.
and when they're around for taco night?
it's guaranteed to be a victory.
yeah, black beans are good, too,
but for me? refritas have a special place in my heart.
why? because as much as i want to stay ugly, but eat beautiful,
i have big respect for things that stay ugly, but stay dope.
and that's personal real talk, on the ones, as to the infinite nature of myself,
parallel to my plate, as it pertains to how we are what we eat.....
sidebar: i'd planned on homemade gnocchi, with homemade pesto,
but that's more of a family dinner jauns,
and since my up-here lil broski was off visiting his actual family,
i waited on that one.
luckily, the day dictated the failsafe fallback of soft flour flaps,
and i brought that sh!t down instead.
that's a lot of words about those six deep dark circles of sexxxiness.
i'm off to walk the dog,
and enjoy the brightness of the daylight,
before all the dudes i've got to tattzap drag me into an oubliette of lettering.
i've got words on words on words in the works,
and it's all really happening,
so that my gnocchi budget stays on track,
and the pesto tastes twice as good for all the alphabets on dudes that they are NOT.
today is the day,
just like every day,
and as of right now, events are all likely to unfold in a domino-like cascade
of cause/effect/call/respond/potato/pesto/plate/picture/punisher.
that's the way my brain works,
and that's how i show my work when i'm adding it all up;
never quiet, never soft....

Tuesday, January 9


i went all in, and all out, and over the top.
i mean it.
because when y'boi has a berfday too much IS the right amount.
real talk.
i made myself a four-layer, multi-tiered, supa-dupa-fly, exxxtra-af,
expert, elite sweet cakey exxxplosion for my face.
that's no joke.
forty two is for real, man.
look at this supersexxxy stack of fresh-to-death frosted flavor bombardment:

c'mon, man.
that's excessive, which is to say: just right.
i know!
the cake itself is a triumph.
like, the crumb within, i mean.
and with stacks on stacks on stacks of it rising high,
it's literally elevated above ordinary cake from the get-go.
a slight creamchee' suggestion in that airy, fluffy, betterthanevercreme frosting
gives it an especially rich flavor-
and then there's that light and bright chocolate superwhip jauns,
AND the darrrrrrrk deep fudge swirls, too.
when it's time to bake MY berfday cake,
it's gotta be some other other sh!t, for sure...
after all, why would i want some ordinary action,
when i could just as readily make some level-eleven activation?
that's the realest i know how to be, and reality is what i'm all about-
so naturally, i doo-doo that freaky sh!t....
we made a lot of frosting, so there's a little left over,
we used a LOT of frosting, so the remainder is not a large quantity.
the recipe is simple:
in your stand mixer, with the whisk attached, soften and smoosh:
1 stick(8T) vegan butter;
1 tsp vanilla;
2 T vegan (tofutti) creamchee'-
next, add in:
3 cups powdered sugar;
*1/4 cup cocoa for the chocolate version;
1/3 cup non-dairy milk.
adjust the powdered sugar by as miuch as 1/4 cup, relative to the liquid,
so that the frosting gets aerated, and lofty, bt retains peaks when tapped.
^^^^straightforward boomfire, for your bumbaclot bums,buddy.
the dark dark dark chocolate one, made from the chocolate leftovers,
is roughly 1/2 cup finished chocolate frosting,
plus 2 T cocoa, and 1 T shaved dark chocolate.
re-whip it, and get ready for the full-bodied flavor of deep darkness to overwhelm you.
you've been warned.
two 9" pans, 1 7" springform, and one 4" mini springy form.
that's what i had, greased and floured, and ready to rock.
i wanted allllll the cake, and tha's what i made.
there was very little math involved in this process,
but i biggerized my normal cake recipe a little baby bit,
and it worked out perfectly.
that's real.
here's what happened:
preheat the oven to 350℉
in your stand mixer, whisk-equipped, and ready to rock, combine:
1 stick vegan butter;
2 tsp vanilla bean paste;
1/4 cup raw demerara sugar;
1 cup sugar;
generous 1/2 tsp salt;
when that's all one messy mass, whisk in:
1/2 cup unsweetened applesauce;
1/2 cup vanilla non-dairy yogurt.
congrats, now you have aromatic mud.
sift in:
3 2/3+  cups flour;
2 tsp bakey powder;
1 tsp bakey soda;
1/4 cup tapioca flour.
barely whisk that up,
and pour in:
1 full cup non-dairy milk activated with 1 T lemon juice
3 T agave.
- whip it, whisk kit, fluff it, puff it, and generally add air everywhere.
use your eyeballs, and divide the batter into those flour waiting pans.
they're gonna need to bake for at least 25, but likely more tha thirty minutes.
that's cool, though, because the whole house is gonna smell amazing the whole time.
that kind of bonus hottness is always invited, neighbors.
word up.
cool your cakes, of course, and trim the tops so that you've got level layers.
don't worry, friends-
we're gonna put chocolate frosting in between everything,
add the crumbled up cake bit,
AND toss in a few crushed coffee cookies from the other day, too.
at least,
we did that.
i dunno what y'all are trying to do...
frosted, stacked, frosted some more, and decorated all over the flippin' place-
plus, after all the blops got squooshed on the surface,
we added a bunch of those big, shiny, golden sugar glitter sprankles!!!
rules is rules, and the fancy stuff is verrrrry necessary.
...and then you sing and make wishes and sh!t.
check the 'port:

the cake standard has been raised.
wedding-style cake for birthday parties?
it's happening.
the rest of y'all can go buy a store-brand frozen sheet-cake or whatever.
the worthy warrior poets of the north, however, are erecting towers of taste and texture
as testaments to the triumph of time's passage.
anything less is for A*-holes;
never quiet, never soft.....