Tuesday, August 23


what the F* would i do without harvest and maple?
for real-
these kids were steady helping in the kitchen last night.
i mean it.
we made ourselves useful,
and then we made ourselves full as heck!
because they're virtuous valkyries of valuable victuals;
and i'm a woodsly goodsly warrior poet,
extolling long laudable lists of luscious ingredients;
and together,
we're one pretty good team.
lucky us.
and last night, we did that thing we do-
the one where we eat a TON of good food,
and hang out with laughs and talks and other sorts
of competent and capable communication as a family hell-bent on
active participation, full-disclosure, and appreciated togetherness.
we do that,
and we did it all evening long-
but first,
we made dinner,
and dinner was expert.
you know it-
check the teleport:
get with it, or miss out. (i strongly suggest getting with it)
we brought the noise,
and we took the semolina flour level to eleven.
i'm sure i'll have a thin-crust dough that's so dope,
it'll be adopted and adapted by all future pizzaiolos in this place.
until then,
i tweak, and i edit, and i tinker, and i adapt.
these were good.
really good.
and higher heat (480F), plus convection, turned it up a whole bunch.
look at my food:

that's the classic Folk Life & Liberty Fortress pizza-
seared brussels sprouts, tempeh bacon, and caramelized onion,
with underchee', daiya mozzarella, and crushed tomatoes everywhere,
plus those fried garlic sprankles.
the ones that have become synonymous with being expert up here.
i love it, the kids love it,
and it's become a sort of tradition that we activate it.
why is broccoli so good?
i dunno, but it IS.
y'know what makes broccoli feel insecure though?
that younger, skinnier model.
broccolini is the BIG BUSINESS,
and we need it on our pizza:

dark green florets of super-ferocious freshness in full effect.
and that garlic tofu? so firm, so crisp, so much of it that this pizza was heavy.
underchee'? got it.
daiya mozz'? you bet.
crushed tomatoes? what a i? an A*-hole?
of course i rep the main staples of my 'za-'za, brah.
don't be dumb.
garlic spranks are on there, too-
and so are those baby bellas!
mushrooms are good for you on pizza,
but ONLY when they're cooked correctly.
i'm a snob about slimy mushrooms.
i don't want 'em,
i don't like 'em,
and i can't hang out with 'em.
no way.
i like my jauns firm, and dryish, and salty, and dope.
so that's what we did.
word up.
my kids rep eggplant heavy in these streets.
i mean it.
they had a little guidance from me throughout the pizza party prep,
but i let 'em run free, and make their own magic up in here.
the eggplant was one such superb spell.
check the teleport:

fried eggplant, dredged in a soymilk/flax/chia blend,
and floured with a blend of corn starch, black pepper,
GPOP, oregano, basil, and nootch, and salt.
how good is it?
it's better than your mom makes.
i said it.
undechee', crushed tomatoes, spinach, daiya chee',
eggplant, fresh sweet tomatoes, cashew-garlic chee' blops,
garlic spranks,
and a finishing flourish of cress!!!
holy good gosh-dammit, neighbors.
we really did it right last night.
every day is kind of the same thing-
a litany of labors that take up a lot of time .
i guess i enjoy writing this,
for whomever out there checks in.
i mean,
i could be doing something else.
it's just that real-life documentarianism isn't to be taken lightly-
i make all sorts of stuff,
but i enjoy making food the most these days.
it seems almost disrespectful to the process of intentional radical vegan hottness
to just let it vanish into piehole, and then into a bellyhole,
and then out of a butthole without some sort of eulogy here.
i can't say for certain,
but i thinking this outlet is good for me.
call it a placebo, but i'm pretty sure that that actually makes it good for me.
it's all really happening,
and i'm here to talk about it.
that's what i do.
i communicate.
every day may be eerily similar,
echoing outward into darkening skies and lengthening nights,
but the bright spots still warrant a paragraph.
it can't be all bad,
it'd just all be regular.
rules is rules,
and without a little sweetness,
all the bitter wouldn't seem as such;
never quiet, never soft.....

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