ok.
that sounds like a job for a crucial sandwich.
guys,
i really like sandwiches,
and when there are kids around with wimpy little connecticut appetites?
the usual super-explosions of shark-gluttony don't go over as well as i'd like.
so,
we make it work on a (slightly) reduced scale,
and just make one thing, only we make it BIG,
because rules is rules.
uh-huh.
i got home after leaving work a bit early for added fun family times,
and i started tossing stuff in a bowl.
harvest noticed, and said to me: 'oh, now you make the bread, too?'
F*ing right, dudes.
i don't always bake the breads-
i mean,
there's talk of a starter course in starter sourdough coming around this summer,
courtesy of vegan_magic_time,
but,
until then,
i'm just whipping up a furious high-speed, low-drag flatbread foldover
to hold our sandwichery in place while we stack it up.
that's no joke.
vegan sour-creme to soften it, masarepa to bulk it up,
salt, flour, semloina, black pepper, baking soda, and warm water are all we needed.
it's so simple, a lazy diaperbaby could do it,
even though that'd be asking an awful lot.
we did it, rollin' the dough out, and griddle-zappin' it over high heat.
and when we had our base in place?
we rapidly accrued a hoard of delicious delights with which to fill 'em up.
check the fast-sandwiches-type teleport:
DINNER, DUDERS!
pea tendrils, mixed baby red lettuces, sliced mini cucumber discs,
sweet grape tomatoes, and a custom lemon-garlic cashew crema,
drizzled on there for tangy spice and citrus nicey-niceties,
which just so happened to really compliment the crispy beige bits on the flip side.
mmmmhmmmm.
butterish-fried red potato chips, blanched, crisped, and so frickin' rad,
i almost wished i'd mandoline'd many many more-
except that time was of the essence,
and eating was next on the itinerary-
so we made do with what we had on hand,
and it really tied the sandwich together.
really.
.....those strict strippin' sticks of tofu, though, neighbors.
dry-fried on two sides, with the steam escaping out the other ends-
that's pretty good,
but with oil, and smoked paprika, and GPOP added,
and a splash of water to create solutions to those powders?
BOOM!
the combination was caramelized in a crucible of ceramic skill and skilletry,
and the flavor practically burst into our brains.
then,
because enough is never ever enough-
rings of grilled leek,
and a splash of cilantro sprankles took it to eleven.
when it was folded, it was thick.
i like that.
heavy, weighty, satisfying heft is rewarding in a sandwich.
i mean it.
when you're diggin' in, and it's diggin you, and you're diggin' it?
that's a food love affair,
and it's filling, and fulfilling, and good for you, all at once.
*
it's a sunny friday in the northern woods and mountains of new hampshire,
but,
it's also bike week.
awwwwww, man.
until this moment,
i've managed not to complain too loudly about the mincey uniformity
of two-wheelin' weak sauce and suckery....
unfortunately,
as the weather has improved some, the d!ckturds have multiplied manyfold;
and whereas the cold and wind of earlier have ceased inhibiting the long-ridin'
chaps-wearin' handlebar-moustachioed barbecue enthusiasts-
they are now out in force, and it is a total flippin' bummer.
for whatever reason, the oldest and most busted motorcycle meatheads seem to be
the ones who venture this far up into the state to stake a claim on ruining the roads
for the rest of us.
all the other (presumably) less-horrible folks stay an hour away in the lakes,
where the actual event is held.
it's loud, but not fresh.
it's fast, except, in groups, they travel ten miles below the speed limit,
with thunderous classic rock pouring out in stink-waves from speakers
designed to compete with straight pipes, which i've heard save lives,
which is a pity, don't you doubt...
and it's hard...to be around dudes in form-fitting skull-cap bandanas,
with built-in dangles.
i'm no fashion forward spearhead of style,
and even i can tell that that's the ornament of a compete douchebird.
real talk.
three more days, and it's done.
i can endure.
i've slogged through swampier spots,
and i've driven on sh!ttier roads.
if nothing else,
i'm doing a rain dance.
i've never like parades anyway,
and raining on 'em feels like reaching a decent balance.
i LOVE food,
i HATE bike week.
that's the truth, and that's what's happening;
never quiet, never soft.....
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