Monday, January 13

that sandwich game.

pesto.
yeah.
that's right.
raw cashews, and olive oil.
garlic, and onion powder, and nootch,
salt, pepper, parsley,
and a bucket of basil.
uh-huh.
it's dope.
huh?
well, yes,
it IS ugly- but it's also dope.
and when it's used correctly,
as a pasty accent glue for a fresh sandwich?
yeah.
it's not just dope, it's expert, too.
believe it.
there's a trick to rehydrating
and simultaneously fry-drating slabs of tempeh.
you gotta lay it down in some oil first, kids.
then,
once its hot hot hot,
you flood the pan with your sauce.
and it's never weak sauce.
ever.
not even once on accident.
that's right.
bragg's tamari, agave, molasses,
spices and spices and spices,
and liquid smoke,
and white wine vinegar,
and black pepper, always.....
that's the juice.
it absorbs into the sliced squares of expertism,
and it caramelizes the outsides, too,
once the wet bits are locked inside.
smart.
speaking of caramelizing-
without onions all slippery and sweet,
you ain't doin' much that's all that rad, neighbors.
sorry.
rules is rules.
anyway,
add some sauteed mushrooms,
and some slices of fresh-ish winter tomatoes,
and you've got yourself some kind of good stuff.
that's real.
check the pesto-is-the-best-o-type teleport:
butterish-fried herbed flatbreads,
from scratch?
yeah.
i F*s with that sandwich-type jauns like that.
it's not that i consciously try to big-time
and/or showboat
and/or grandstand.
it's just that expert is as expert does, friends,
and i've got to be true to my infinite nature.
therefore,
if we had these treats one night,
it was clearly time to one-up the ante the next.
check the more-is-still-better-type-teleport:
yeah!
c'mon, now.
coconut crusted sesame tofu,
caramelized red onions,
cilantro,
sprouts,
crunchy-A* cukes,
and a fattie-boombattie sauce-slap from the future?
uh-huh.
yellow coconut curry,
in F*ing full effect, folks.
i doo-doo that active dinnertime participation-type sh!t, too.
curry on both sides,
curry on top,
all saturated from a starchy slurry to thicken the pot!
expert.
the homemade semolina and gluten enriched custom dough
i knead up to flatten out and fry in a big ol' pan
 is very likely the key to taking all of this supper business
to eleven.
y'know?
without the foldable freshness of those flatties,
it's all just a bunch of tasty stuff in a pile.
lame.
there needs to be a round disc of designated delicious
delightfulness to hold it all snugly in a floury embrace
for easy epic shark-gluttonous big-bite munching up.
the circle, kids, is the key.
as usual, it ties it all up in a unified form.
a delicious, warm, filling, unified soft-taco of unparalleled hottness.
that's it.
we all need to eat,
i just want to do it better than everybody else.
warrior poetry isn't just about fighting for your life,
it's about food fighting too;
never quiet, never soft.....

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