i haven't run this much in years.
what?
literally, running.
running after this dog.
running away from this dog.
running to the store to get stuff for this dog.
running into walls because i'm exhausted from following this dog around.
yep.
we gotta run around together, he and i.
not running around is not an option available on this menu, kids.
that's no joke.
i'm telling you,
after almost a month of puppy interactive participation,
the one truth i can attest to?
a tired crabby is the only good crabby;
awwwwwwww.
and the thing of it is-
he NEVER gets tired as fast as i do.
y'know?
i'm just sayin',
he's over here F*ing napping,
after administering an astonishingly admonishing 4 a.m. restless roll-around rising,
and a 5 a.m. all-the-way wake up and eliminate outdoors session.
meanwhile,
i'm over here wide awake,
melting dark chocolate for ganache,
and he's charging up his little A*-hole sh!t-machines to spread cheer, and terror,
and, of course, feces,
all over the whole of the woodsly goodness.
hahaha.
i might've effed up what was left of the un-effed recesses of my life with this decision.
that's that wrench choosing jauns,
and that seems to be what i do.
a limitless group of choices,
and i still keep going for that same pipey-monkeyworks-wrecker.
rules is rules, i guess.
so here i am,
up, at 'em, and activated,
with bleary eyes, a busted facepiece, ten bitten fingers,
and an embarrassingly early went-to-bedtime,
or,
more truthfully, a ridiculously overtired passed-the-F*-out-time.
yup.
i doo-doo that drop-right-where-i-stop-style sh!t.
and then i repeat the process, again, and again,
while crabtree learns only a little,
and then maybe, just maybe, he learns a little more.
it's probably the naps that do it.
***********
alright,
so i'm tired a lot.
y'know what else i am,
especially on wednesdays?
yuuuuuuuuuuuuup.
i'm one mean cookin' sunovab!tch.
word up.
and when it's a wu-TANG word up wednesday,
you know i gotta get it poppin' like a pro, yo.
real talk.
this time around i went big.
yeah.
empanadas grandes.
that's my move.
while y'all're over there reppin' little puffy pockets;
i'm up in here dominating pastry backpacks.
boom.
check the big-dirty-type teleport:
guys,
i didn't measure a flippin' thing,
but i know i put in a whole lotta buttery balance in that bread.
with flour, ground up cashews,
and a slap of vegan creamchee', a dash of salt,
and that's it.
after folding it a few times,
and chilling it down and out while i made everything else,
i had the flakiest crumbliest butteriest best crust i've had yet.
mmmhmmm.
that's real
and inside of 'em?
lentils, and that coarse ground cashew debris, and butternut squash;
and onions and garlic;
and poblano and green pepper, and cayenne pepper;
with cilantro, coriander, marjoram, mexican oregano,
hot paprika, cumin, and g.p.o.p. (obvi),;
a quick flash deglaze of apple cider vinegar,
and some time off-heat to fuse it all into a cohesive unit of excellence,
and the freshest fall roasty toasty nutty-nuanced hearty filling
fulfilled all of my flavor desires for the day.
damn.
plus,
i cut those little hearts, and those tiny +'s into the tops,
after i folded them up, and shaped them into bricks,
because i like cute stuff, alright?
alright.
and once i cuteified the packages,
i re-chilled them for a few.
huh?
that's the secret to superflaky buttery baked hottness, guys.
you don't want the fats to soften before the furious fire hits the shell.
c'mon.
did you say salsa?
i hope so.
i cooked down, and kept warm, a hot hot diced tomato,
green chili, poblano, jalapeno, onion, garlic, herb, spice,
and broth blend of sweet, spicy, slow-simmered sexxiness,
and the chunkiness added all kinds of depth and texture
to those delicate pouches of perfection.
i'm kind of all about that onslaught of awesome.
-
dirty coconut rice.
that's what's up.
red onions, garlic, peppers, and cilantro,
with long grain goodness, steeped in coconut milk
until all that fatty-boombattie business is soaked in, and fired up,
and finished off with a dash of cilantro.
yup.
sprankles are what make it expert.
that's real.
-
and we need to get magical with some brown blarpity refried beans,
activated with a blast of nootch,
and onions, and garlic, and more g.p.o.p.,
and vegan butters, and a dash of ho' sauce,
because they're good on their own,
but they're even better when they're hooked up.
scallion sprankles?
obviously.
too much is the right amount,
and i wouldn't want to let myself down, now, would i?
no way, duders.
my grind stays at eleven until i fall asleep.
days off are even busier than days on.
that's a rule.
i work hard at what they want,
because nobody likes a lazy slack-A*,
but,
i work even harder at what i want.
because nobody else is going to do what i do,
and certainly not FOR me.
i've got a dog,
i've got an oven,
i've got a hard style,
and it's all really happening,
from before the break of dawn, until well past dark;
never quiet, never soft.....
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