Thursday, May 22

butterscotch.

tarts are just such expert treats, neighbors.
y'know?
i mean,
they're really just  pies, right?
except with a better name.
that's a thing.
sometimes what it's called is what makes it taste better.
no joke.
like,
when i put brown sugar and butter in a pan and cooked the heck out of it,
with a splash of vanilla and a whole mess of bubbling trouble,
it became butterscotch-
when i added all the soymilk to make the pastry creme,
it technically became caramel.
hmmmmm.
check the teleport:
cookies, crushed up with oatmeal and coconut,
form the crumbly crust of this tasty piece of tarted uppity pie.
solid foundations, kids, are the way we begin all our endeavors.
shaky ground and uncertain styles aren't invited to the test kitchens
because here at the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress,
warrior poets aren't just prancing about it aprons baking muffins...
...we also swear a lot and stir pots and pots and pots of pastry creme, too.
awwwwwww, man!
but anyway,
when the food needs making,
we take a break from whatever else is going on,
and get really involved in the creative process.
after all,
if it doesn't turn out expert, i'll still have to eat it all.
rules is rules.
fitting punishment, though, isn't it, friends?
forcing down the less-elite bits, bite by bite,
as a reminder that taking it to eleven is the only level we tolerate up here.
mistakes are fine,
but making the same mistake twice is what stoopidheads do.
c'mon.
i know what i'm talking about.
...
so,
there's cookie crust and butteryscotchy creme,
and then,
to make it fancy,
a scoople or two of little baby chocolate chip sprankles,
and a coconut-sugar caramel stripe pattern poppin' off too.
soymilk and a little flour activated that butterscotch-style jauns,
and made it the stretchiest, richest, roasted-sugar sexiness yet.
yeah.
it's good.
oh,
and then,
because a sugar bomb is only so sweet-
there's sea salt sprankles on top of that!!
double sprankles because too much is the right amount.
believe it.
and without that savory seasoning to savor,
the flavor is only halfway developed.
sweets on sweets is great,
but without some bitterness,
it just isn't the true expression of my extended infinite nature.
yuck.
intentional construction in my pastry situations, y'all.
i doo-doo that metaphoric allegory as a tart-that-isn't-tart-or-slutty-type sh!t.
word.
***********
i mowed some of my lawn yesterday.
uh-huh.
some of it.
the rest has wildflowers springing up,
and i'm not the type to destroy some winning nature...
not when she shows up uninvited to help out,
instead of punishing us for whatever sleights she imagines.
i mean it,
after this past winter's perpetual omnipresent awfulness,
i'm letting flowers bloom wherever they arise.
that's no joke.
all the sunshine, all the blossoms, all the time.
if there's nature that isn't trying to ruin it,
i'm soaking as much of it up as i can.
less yardwork and more beauty?
yuuuuup.
if it's available, i want that every time;
never quiet, never soft.....

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