Saturday, April 23

pound it.

lemon pound cake.
huh?
no.
i'm sayin',
lemon poppy seed pound cake!
yeah!
heavy doses of citrus,
sweetened up and spun about,
mixed with tiny black specks of tooth-sticking drug-test-failing flower dots,
baked in a bumpy circle and presented to you in it's full resplendence.
y'know?
no?
well you should.
check the teleport:

wooooooooo!
cake is good.
cake is really good.
cake is what i've got going on,
and cake is what i'm eating-
but,
just how lemony is it?
well,
i always feel compelled to do a whole lot of lemony lemoning,
and when i got into the yellow zone this time,
i did it like i always do it.
neighbors,
too much is the right amount.
on that end of things,
i thought i used a TON of seeds, but,
while they're definitely sticking in between my giant enamel chompers,
they aren't bringing the visuals to eleven by any means.
awwwwwwwwww.
i guess those nelwyn specks weren't the star of the show anyway.
....y'get where i'm coming from?
no?
nevermind.
the lemon magic melty goodness on the other hand,
has got the big action on lock.
that's for serious.
as always,
the juice, the zest, and the extract all acted in concert to commit a spree of
hottness throughout the whole circle of baked greatness.
what's the secret to good cake?
it's no secret, kids.
you just put it all in a bowl and beat it up until it does what you tell it to.
yikes.
the exxxtra-heavy icing not playing around.
kapowdered sugar, lemon juice, that fresh grated zest, vanilla and lemon extracts.
eyeballed to the drizzliest pasty sauce-styled sugar-glazing goodness,
and dripped all over the place with a great big spoon.
..............you KNOW i hit it up with MORE lemony zest sprankles, too.
i  mean, c'mon,
what am i
an A-hole?
no way!
-
but how'd i make and bake that cake?
easy.
i combined, in order,
one and a half sticks of butterish,
one and a half cups of sugar,
six ounces of soy yogurt,
a half tsp of salt,
a splash of vanilla,
a half a lemon, grated,
a splash and a half of lemon extract,
three cups of flour,
a third of a cup of tapioca,
four tablespoons of poppy seeds,
two thirds of a cup of soymilk,
half a cup of sweetened lemon juice,
a bunch of profanity,
a lot of standmixer whisking mayhem to really aerate that batter,
and a greased, floured bundthole,
plus an oven blazing up at 350degrees F,
pretty much for what seemed like forEVER.
seriously,
it was somewhere between forty minutes and an hour,
the cake tester should come out clean,
but if not,
a little extra moisture never hurt anybody.
it's not like you'll get salmonella from all the filthy eggs there AREN'T in there.
ha.
guys,
my oven is pretty reliable,
but damn that doneness window is a wide one.
i bet you can figure it out, though, because you're not a dummy.
***********
how much weak sauce does one fella have to drink before it's okay to call it a day?
what i mean is-
at what point is it fruitless and faulty to fight extra hard
to stay in a place where you don't belong?
really.
that's the full-moon activated nightmare question that kept me up last night.
i bake treats, i do a LOT of tattoos, i walk miles every day.....
i can't help but think there's more to it than that, though.
no?
maybe?
it's as if there's a deficiency that has yet to be diagnosed-
it's not scurvy, obvi, with all that lemon floating around in me right now)
but,
there IS a fundamental absence occurring.
i can feel it.
maybe i just need more pizza to plug up all the gaping holes
where social interaction would normally be, if i was the type of person who sought that out.
i've got the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress;
i've got crabtree the shark-bullet battle beast;
i've got a sleeping beauty who goes by the name of ampy-d;
i've got an oven;
and i've got precious little time to do much else beyond those four cornerstones.
the thing of it is,
i need to do more.
where i'll find the time and space, and when, remains to be determined.
that's a small world, no matter how concentrated the flavor.
the core group of principles is in full effect,
but in practice,
it's a lonely workday, a quiet morning, a long walk, and a hard style.
i'm grateful for what i've got,
but that doesn't mean that it's enough.
those two things aren't the same;
never quiet, never soft.....

No comments: