wellingtonian.

mushrooms are good.
that's real.
and stuffed mushrooms are great.
that's also a thing.
so, if we can work it out to where we're on some upgrade jauns?
like, where the hottness gets elevated and activated?
well, now,
up here in the woodsly goodness, that sh!t is the TRUTH!
recognize.
mushroom bits and stems,
sauteed in browned vegan butter until richly roasty toasty,
with absolutely zero gross wetness remaining,
stirred around with caramelized onions and fried garlic,
tossed with chopped wilted arugula!
that's a tremendously delicious filling,
for some really improved-upon button caps of satisfaction.
that'd be good all on it's own.
right?
right!
but,
too much is the right amount,
and if it doesn't go to eleven, it doesn't go on my plate.
real talk.
neighbors,
check the teleport:

BOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!
demi-wellington explosions!
peppered puff pastry, punched into midi-muffin cups,
with the stuffed stuffs sitting pretty in the middle.
how good are they?
oh, c'mon.
you're joking, right?
no?
what are you?
an A*-hole.
they're not just good,
they're mutha-'ucking expert!
just look at how perfectly this made-up plan came together:

see?!
the mushroom caps shrunk under high heat,
and the pastry wrapped it right up.
half wellingtons, well done,
and one hundred and eleven percent perfect.
the flaky part is the flakiest,
the buttery bits are the butteriest,
the arugula, well, it's one blue-heavenly vegetable,
and that's no joke.
i'm about that food hottness,
and you know i'm into inventing kitchen wizardry on the fly.
a little something special never made a holiday any worse.
there's comfort in cooking good stuff,
and pride when the hungry hippos all converge on it,
devour it,
and leave behind only the scantest of crumbs.
word up.
appetizers aren't normally my thing,
but this batch of that new-new may have swayed my attitude somewhat.
*
there's still so much to do,
and there's not enough time to do all of it.
i want fires, and cocoa,
and cakes, and movies, and stories,
and more of my kids,
and more time to play with crabby,
and i'd like to terrorize a leftover or two, too,
but instead,
i've got work to go to, and work to do,
and all those four-day weak-sauce weekend waterbabies will be there
to ensure a hard-styled mess of a day goes straight downhill from the jump off.
nothing gold, nothing glittery, just more of all of this;
never quiet, never soft.....