Monday, November 7


there's this thing called graham flour.
you know-
the sh!t they make those crackers out of.
my boy bob, over at his red mill,
has BAGS of that stuff,
and recently i scoopled one up for myself,
and basically immediately set about making some of that new new.
...that's no joke.
graham flour is pretty sexy.
i'm sayin'-
i had some pie-crusty crumbles left behind from my chocolate boomfire last week,
and they were already sittin' in the fridge,
so it was kind of a natural progression from crumbs to cakes....
that's right.
when all the ingredients are available,
and the pantry is lookin' hella stocked,
and the graham flour is on the counter daring me to do my best-
well, guys,
i'm not about to be a little diminished and diminutive doo-doo-buttery duder.
no way.
i'm gonna make the magic happen,
always, and in all the best ways,
live and direct from my mystical mysterious wizard museum of a house,
and if i'm to be more specific-
in and out of the ever-lovin' oven of the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress test kitchen.
because on the ones,
i do MOST of my living in this kitchen.
it is precisely the place where i feel my most creative-
and that includes this grahamy goodness i've invented.
i made it work, and it worked like a gosh-damned charm-
check the make-it-up-as-you-go-type teleport:

y'see that?
that's a beast of a beauty.
it's super spongy and soft and fluffy and sweet and good.
i mean it.
besides, just look at it, man-
there's the elite cake,
and apples on top of the cake,
and crumbly spranky crankles on top of THAT.
stacks on stacks of texture and flavor and freshness,
all folded up into one righteous right-angled rectangle
of wreck-checking selfishness.
yeah, buddy.
take a bite and then tell me if you'd share even a single morsel.
could i make it again if i had to?
will i share the secrets of it's debut with you?
you can't have any of the actual cake,
but you are welcome to try and recreate the decidedly delightful
depth of this coffee-style cakey greatness in the relative comfort of your own home.
it's like, that, and this:
1 cup raw sugar (the big brownish crystals)
1 stick of butterish
2 tsp vanilla
1/2 tsp salt
3/4 cup graham crackery crumbs, infused with buttsm sugs, vanilla, nondairy milk.
^ that's the pie crust stuff, i just added it into the cream phase.
3/4 cup non-dairy yogurt
4 T vegan sour creme
1 cup graham flour
1 cup all purpose flour
1/2 cup non-dairy milk
2 tsp bakey pow
1 tsp bakey soda
that's the cake, dropped into a greased 9x12 brownie style rectangle.
there's still much more:
7 peeled empire apples
(it doesn't ever really matter what apples, i just have these here)
rough chopped,
and stewed on medium-low heat with:
pinch of salt
1/3 cup kapowdered sugar
1 tsp vanilla
2 T lemon juice
and when they're semi-soft, and very juicy,
a couple 2-3 T of arrowroot or cornstarch gets stirred in,.
and thickened up, so the sauce becomes thick syrup.
that's key,
or the wet will ruin the cake batter. be careful.
now, is that it?
more is better,
and more is what's happening-
i got a carton of super-crawnchy ginger snaps on a whim,
the box said vegan in big letters, and i'm a sucker for that level of pandering.
i melted 3 T of butts,
and added a splash of non-dairy milk,
to a scant 2ish cups of cookies, crushed into pieces and shards and shrapnel,
to make a cookie-based streusel.
that's what's up, man.
too much is the right amount,
and all that cookie, topping all those fruits, topping all that cake?
it goes to eleven on the tasty-piece scale, right away.
i baked it for 35 minutes at 360F,
and it came out firm, fresh, aromatically incredible,
and about as spongy as i could have ever hoped for.
i LOVE it when an experiment is a success.
and i topped my trial slice with that almond milk ice creaminess,
and a whole oh-snap gingery snap, just to sexxx it up a little bit exxxtra.
rules is rules, my friends.
i have been tattooing in all the styles for miles and miles.
no joke.
from underbutt lacey spiderwebs;
to an infinite number of sideways-eights;
with feathers in various states of dreamy-catcherism;
tribal in two flavors:
a polynesian half-sleeve;
and dusk-til-dawning camaro-driving dirty-boy black spikes;
a million flowers;
a steve vai autographed signature;
plus black and grey pin ups;
some skulls;
and enough words to write a very confusing novel.
it's been a busy week for tattbombing zipblastin' zaptastic crap,
and that's not the half of it.
these days go by on the fly,
and while i'm in no hurry to miss out on time after time,
even with the clocks giving us an 'extra' hour,
(after all, i've been sliding backwards, regardless of what the clock says, for years)
i'm still watching november roll away out of reach and out of sight,
as i let it slip my mind,
and nevermind that all the days are bleeding into one another.
it's all really happening,
and it's all different,
but really, it's all the same.
there's no growth in the grey reaches of the approaching winter.
there is a more sky to be seen sans foliage,
but it sure looks a great deal darker than it used to;
never quiet, never soft.....

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