i got these neat new pie pans,
and i've been molto eager to activate them in the pursuit
of new and better treats.
i did not break any new ground.
i reluctantly report that i only made my favorite even more favorable.
so, not new, but definitely better.
i can live with that.
oval pans, tho.
they're bigger than i'd describe as a single-serving.
i'll eat two alone in one shot,
but that's just me, and not the standard serving size.
i have a prodigious appetite, hence my prolific treat production.
when i'm making food for me, which is always the case,
then the rules all apply.
especially the one that says too much is the right amount.
and who doesn't want MORE pie?
A*-holes, that's who.
and now oval pies are happening.
i employed my signature ornamentation,
and i'm pleased with the results.
check the apple-pie-for-your-eye-type teleport:
look at that!
braids and swirls and snowflakes!!!!
if you have the choice, kids-
don't eat ugly food.
my standard, very reliable, exxxtra-crisp, buttery, flaky, golden pastry dough
was made, rested, and rolled for this upgrade in portion control.
you remember the recipe?
here it is, again:
1 stick + 3-4 T earth balance vegan butter;
(other fats will do in an emergency piecrust crisis situation,
but they're not first choice)
3 T vegan creamchee' (tofutti brand is the prince of tofu, it says so on the tub);
2 T sugar;
1 tsp vanilla;
2 mounded cups of white flour;
all added into a food processor,
with non-dairy milk, splashed in a few tablespoonfuls at a time,
and pulsed until it clumps together like moist sand.
that's only a few tablespoons' worth, guys.
don't make it wet.
-wrap it up, and rest it for at least an hour.
it helps the fats set, so the flakies are all kinds of sexxxy.
i still rest mine for a day. i like to work with firm dough,
because i'm usually gonna manhandle the hell out of it.
just like i did this time.
i got six bottom piecrusts, six braids, twelve snowflakes,
and a cinnamon roll that produced thirty swirls for one batch of dough.
that's pretty good, huh?
the filling was very straightforward.
apple pie usually is.
3 gala apples, four granny smiths, peeled, cored,
and sliced into 1 1/2" fat slabs,
cooked up on medium low heat with:
2 T lemon juice;
1 1/2 tsp vanilla;
a dash of salt;
4 T molasses;
cinnamon, nutmeg, allspice, and cloves-
(make it taste the way you like it, bruh.);
plus a scoop of powdered sugar (just to use up the end of a bag);
and a handful of thick old fashioned rolled oats,
to soak up all the sugary apple juice and prevent the piecrusts from turning to slop.
c'mon, how simple is that?
i baked them for twenty five minutes at 420F,
and they came out one hundred percent expert.
i think they're the perfect size for sharing with someone you like.
i mean it.
half of a sweet little oval apple boat seems like it's just about the cutest thing.
if i liked anybody, i'd eat one and a half with them.
on the ones, i'll split one, but i'm not missing on a whole one, either.
i LOVE apple pie,
and i love eating a lot of it.
i'm psyched on those braids, bros.
i can't believe i'd never braided anything ever until this year.
like, not either of my daughters' locks, not even once.
and really, besides that,
even i had long hair for the longest time.
if i still had a healthy head of it,
i'd still have those tantalizing tresses,
instead of the sh!t-hot mess i'm suffering under these days.
so, shoutouts to all the dads who don't do hairdo's, i guess.
i'm braiding now,
and i'm adding adorable accents,
and you can rest assured i can't go back to a cinnamon swirl-less top.
once the upgrades are there, they become the standards.
rules is rules.
i'm still feeling all cooked-out,
but i'm muscling through meals with all the mustered magnificent and massive
hunger of our favorite ferocious werewolfen fenrisulfr.
i can't quit at active participation just because i'm not feeling it.
that's weak diapery sodapants baby sh!t,
and that's not invited into my home, homie...
when the scene gets hard, you just gotta try harder.
i chose to be a radical vegan home cook and baker,
and that means that that's what i DO.
at least i'm always ravenous,
so i'm much more motivated to frequently produce something edible.
from there, it's just a matter of staying on message, man:
just be dope, or F* right off.
here's the thing-
and when it comes right down to it,
i have nowhere to go.
so i guess the decision is already made.
which means now i just have to make breakfast;
never quiet, never soft.....