tartly.

apples and almonds.
fruit and nuts.
those mutha-effers just go together so well.
seriously.
i didn't really know what to do about my treats situation yesterday.
i mean,
i like to fire up a little something, since i've got the day to myself
to do with as i see fit.
but,
i started outside, getting enraged and exhausted, first thing out of the gates,
and by the time i got back inside, and settled down, and ready to get into it....
...well,
i didn't really know what i even wanted.
and that's just pure bullsh!t, neighbors.
happily for all of us,
i still had apples on hand.
a half peck of crisp shiny red jauns, begging to be chopped up.
i peeled 'em, i coarsely cut 'em up, and i fired them into a pot,
where they simmered slowly in a sauce of vanilla and brown sugar and butter,
until they made enough juice to soak themselves silly in.
while that was going on,
i creamed together some almond flour, slivered almonds, almond extract,
butterish, and brown sugar, with a little liquid to make it stick,
and i pressed that perfect blend into a deep tart tin.
uh-huh.
y'gotta get the crust right, kids.
otherwise, the whole thing sucks.
that's real talk.
so,
i par-baked the almond crumble crawnch,
and it made the whole house smell like a happy home and hearth.
olfactory familiarity is stronger than eyesight.
the kitchen looked like a huge mess,
but it had the time-traveling scent of a quaint new england sanctuary in full effect.
expert.
yes.
what do we get when we combine those two elements?
almond joy and apple overjoy?
we get a pretty flippin' elite treat.
check the tarted-type teleport:

yeah!!!
c'mon.
what?
ah.
yes.
the topping.
of course.
that's brown sugar candied, cinnamon and vanilla activated,
almond-oil infused sliced almond sprankles.
you know that's that sexxxy sh!t.
i make the treats.
that's the thing i do when i don't know what else to do.
it's the way i make things go rtight when they're going wrong.
treats is how i fix my fevered brain-
when i'm scared, when i'm pushed, when i'm worried,
another treat, another tart, so what's the hurry?
and since that's my outlet to exorcise,
and the reason why i exercise,
i certainly don't skimp out on them.
too much is the right amount.
i want that super-fancy unnecessary new hottness,
and i want a lot of it.
rules is rules, friends.
a fact which remains non-negotiable;
never quiet, never soft.....