Thursday, January 12


flame-grilled sourdough slabs!
20% spelt, 5% buckwheat, 100% expert.
fresh, crusty, deep, dense, chewy,
and taken to eleven with hot fire.
that's what's up.
allow me to elucidate.
i was watching mario batali on YouTube,
because i'm a great big sucker for the munchies channel.
(they've got a PIZZA show, after all)
and that dude uses a chunk of bread as the base of a whole mess of his stuff.
because apparently that's what poor people do,
at least, in italy, according to him.
the thing is,
peasant food is usually pretty tasty.
those proletarian peons seem to have a knack for maxxximizing
their hard styles, and turning straw into gold, so to speak.
look, neighbors,
i'm not normally one to emulate the impoverished,
a good idea is a good idea,
and i'm not above adapting and adopting the new/old hottness.
that's real talk.
check out what we came up with for our version of our distantly-derivative
paisano platter for dinner.
check the teleport:

first things first.
i F* with tempeh wheatballs pretty heavy in these streets.
that's the truth.
until yesterday, i hadn't really found that one missing piece of the puzzle.
i think i landed it.
and i'd be pleased to share it, if you'd like?
one minced onion, and three cloves of crushed garlic, sauteed in olive oil,
form the base.
from there, some very finely chopped tempeh. (1/2 lb. 8oz. worth)
gets tossed in and simmered  right along with it.
i'd been using one can of diced tomatoes at this point,
but i had an idea of how to improve it-
pureed stewed tomatoes!!!
use whatever you've got to pulp 'em up,
and toss those babies right on in there.
i also added  about a quarter cup of water, and a scoop of bouillon.
that gives it a flavor pop, man.
oregano, red pepper flakes,black pepper, a splash of soy sauce,
and a spritz of vinegar all work in unison to bring that pot
to a slow-simmered half-hour's worth of super-saturated soaked softening.
you're gonna wanna let that cool a bit.
and while it's doing that,
in a big bowl,
mix 1 fat cup of wheat gluten;
1/4 cup chickpea flour;
2 T arrowroot;
generous GPOP; black pepper, oregano, basil, and parsley;
1/4 cup nootch;
and 3-4 T of that cooked and dried masa corn flour.
that's the secret key, i think.
a little teeny-bitty grainy gritty pull-apart texture.
what about breadcrumbs?
nah, man.
wheaten seitanic pow-powder,
and cornelius mash-up.
so, i think you get the idea-
you put the wet in the dry,
mooshed and mashed and blended up all thoroughly,
and after maybe five minutes of hanging out?
make balls, ya'll.
i got a dozen big 'uns,
and a nother 'nother dozen and a half little ones.
yep. little guys are gonna get dropped on top of some pizza, for sure.
the big babies were tossed into a baking pan with olive oil
and 1/4 inch of marinara magic,
and baked, covered, at 400 for 20 minutes,
plus another 15 with the temperature reduced to 350F.
what do we do when we do what we like?
we eat those mutha-effin' jauns with sauce and fresh parsley,
and we go back for seconds and thirdsies, too.
word up.
too much is the right amount!!

i think i started out talking about grilled sourdough.
i'm back on track, now.
one large slice of that charred-in-charge choice cut bread,
topped with blanched broccoli rabe-
2 minutes in boiling water makes it the best thing you've ever previously hated.
with oven roasted chunks of potato,
and slow-simmered onion-tomato saucy bossiness.
a handful of smallish tomatoes, a quarter of a red onion,
3 cloves of thick-sliced garlic, sauteed in oil, drizzled with lemon juice,
deglazed with a splash of vinegar,
and once the 'matoes are wilty,. and the onion is see-through?
toss in the 'tatoes, and dumpit  down on that bread,
before finishing it off properly with some exxxxtra extra virgin olive oil.
that's how you do peasant pleasantry in the woodsly goodness.
nice, right?
yeah, man, i know.
it's rainy.
you'd think that'd be better than snow, y'know?
what it
actually means is that my poorly-plowed, generally-neglected driveway
is now essentially a suicide-mission ice-slide.
it's also on a hill.
that means i'm on some out of control avalanche sh!t,
but only after i make it to my car,
sliding across the rink outside my front door.
who'd have guessed that warmer weather would be a bad thing?
just goes to show you, no matter what, no matter when-
nature wins.
the elements are conspiring,
the moon is swollen, a spotlight of the bright bright brightest beams,
and even from behind the clouds,
the night is being illuminated by that circle of silvery sorcery.
there's lots to do,
and it's all really happening;
never quiet, never soft.....

No comments: