memorial real real

grillin'.
on the big deluxe heavy-duty super-official charcoal grill.
with fire.
hot fire, and oil-drippin' flame flare-ups,
and char marks,
and smoke,
and all the best bits of real barbarianism,
with living in a nomadic herd of pooping beasts.
expert!
that's what we do when we're home, and i've got company,
and she's as hungry as i am.
yuuuuuup.
we get groceries, and then we get gross, like we're 144.
c'mon.
boomfire!!
what was poppin' on the second day of long-weekend-style dinner?
MORE of everything, that's what.
OBviously.
check the reverse-gingham-picnic-check-fabric-type teleport:

mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm...*POW*!!
what do you know about those vegan sausages, neighbors?
i boiled these for a tiny timehop, to rehydrate them just a smidgen.
it helped by about a mile-wide order of magnitude.
delicious.
lathered with that exxxtra-virgin olive lube, grilled for long enough to get the lines,
and slid into the oily awesomeness of green, red, yellow, and orange peppers,
with macerated garlic, and yellow onions, sauteed to softness,
and mixed in with fire-roasted multicolored grape tomato halves.
on grilled bread?
soft on the outside, and incredible in the burn-marked middle!
y'know what i mean??
such hottness.
plus,
grilled brussels with that sweet agave and balsamic soy glaze;
blackened sweet onions;
baby 'bella mushrooms, with the smoky haze and toasted skin
keeping the squish of their spongy insides in check......
AND asparagus, with a wedge of lime,
for citrusy kisses on all those speartipped sprigs.
yeah.
but that wasn't it, kids.
nope.
i needed something more.
(i always do)
and i made sure that i got it.
a folded foil origami envelope, with minced onion, and crushed garlic,
and earth balanced buttery blops, salt, pepper, and a little g.p.o.p,,
over fingerling tuberous tiny tater babies!!!
holy crapola, those jammers were elite.
*
food, duders.
that's what's on my mind most of the time.
i'm thinking about food right now.
that's a thing.
there's a special relationship over here at the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress,
between actively participating and getting the big treats at the end.
you've gotta get involved if you want the big action at the end.
word up.
little red hen style.
who will help me bake this bread?
you?
ok.
then you're invited, and you can come hang out.
you'd better bring your appetite and your apron, though,
huh?
well, i mean, you're doing the dishes.
that's it;
never quiet, never soft.....