Saturday, July 30

black and white and red all over.

melty, rich, thick, chocolate ganache!!
that's what's on the bottom of a black-bottom pie.
on the real, neighbors,
a little chocolate in every bite makes a good pie into a great one,
and when there's farm-fresh late-season strawberries added into the mix?
it's pretty mutha-flippin' expert.
we doo-doo that flaky thickfreak slice-of-niceness-style sh!t.
me and my peoples.
we're not scared to take pie-tasting to eleven.
there's chocolate chips in there, too.
in where?!?
check the get-in-there-type teleport:

black-bottom strawberry chocolate chip freshness, for your face.
sliced strawberries, powdered sugar, a little vanilla,
and an ever littler bit of lemon extract,
soaked for a spell, and spread out heavy in that pan, my man.
then, i  dropped chocolate chip sprankles down, to roll around
and fill in any divots and dents left by the irregular berry slablets.
that's right. i had a plan, and i worked it to the letter.
the crust was something a little different, too.
i used a stick of butterish, and two cups of flour,
plus 4 tablespoons of vegan creamchee',
a dash of vanilla, a pinch of salt,
and a punch of big crystal raw sugar,
before i drizzled in almost a quarter cup of ice-cold soymilk,
all dumped into the food processor,
and pulsed away into a pulpy, perfect dough.
the sugar spread a bit during baking, and gave the braidwork a crucial crispiness,
and a satisfying crunch.
i baked that circle of sexxxiness for 40 minutes at 425F,
and it looks like that was the right way to go.
(also, it tastes like the exact thing i want to be eating ever single day)
i've been putting the recipes in the text of my tales.
i think that's a natural to explain what i did and how.
this blog isn't a cookbook after all,
although i s'pose that's an eventual necessity.
or no?
well, it doesn't matter, man.
books or blogs, written down or memorized,
clearly stated or alluded to-
i LOVE making food,
thinking about food,
writing about food,
talking about food,
and most of all- eating A LOT of food.
...just as long as there's no dead bodies in there, obvi.
my kids get these glimpses into compassionate, considerate, concentrated,
conscientious, conscious, capable, culpable culinary cause-and-effect,
and i hope it's sending them a positive message.
i'd like to believe i'm providing a counterpoint to indecent unimpressive indifference,
and a proactive participatory powerpoint presentation on the benefits
of trying hard, paying attention, and knowing stuff.
y'feel me?
i'm trying to set an example.
rules is rules,
and there's no denying that they're carved in stone as far as i'm concerned.
the simple truth is-
they're here, and they're part of it,
and i really want that to stick with them when they're not around a constant reminder
to just be dope, or F* right off.
i.e. i want for them to feel motivated towards the former, and not the latter.
we do what we do, and we make it matter.
there's really no excuse for opting out of expertism in favor of convenience.
family togetherness, family dinner, family dessert-
me and mine aren't taking it easy.
not even once.
we're taking it upwards, onward, and into the wider wide-awake woken world
of the woodsly goodness and beyond.
mealtime is just what powers us to do our thing.
the meal itself is representative, sure,
but we're learning and growing and being the best versions of ourselves.
everything else is a lame excuse;
never quiet, never soft..... 

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