Saturday, February 18


i had a lame homecoming last night.
thanks, but no thanks, to the dog, of course.
crabtree is the most indiscriminate shark(bullet) glutton in my life.
he'll bite-and-swallow any and all tasty tidbits if they're in his path.
and while he pays for his indiscretions with discomfort,
i pay for them too-
in load after load of laundered bedding,
gloved-up poople-scoople gag-and-wince aftermathematics,
vinegar-and-baking-soda stain-removal,
and olfactory odium....
and all thanks to my little buddy,
who just so happens to be my metaphysical animal familiar, for sure.
i sure do appreciate all the (literal and figurative) sh!t he puts me through.
in a way,
i s'pose i deserve it.
i mean,
i totally had a dog-free life of ease and comfort,
but here's the thing:
i genuinely believed i needed to add an nth degree of difficulty
to my mornings, days, and nights...
and that was back when i had a partner committed to helping bear the burden
of this burly barrel-chested battle-beast.
aw, MAN!
i might be secretly dumb in all the lamest ways.
that's not gonna stop me from doing my damnedest to dominate dinner.
i mean,
rules is rules.
i've been feeling a little lost in the kitchen.
i've said it before,
and i'll reiterate it because i mean it-
i want that new-new.
i want the big deluxxxe.
i want the best stuff, made by my own two hands.
and sometimes,
i'm just not feelin' it.
i'm not 'bout to be a little diaperb!tch about it.
oh for sure, i'll boo-hoo for a heartbeat or two
after a doo-doo buttery bout of dissing bowels from my baby boy-
the it's time to get back to work...
after a severe hand-washing,
and lighting several scented candles,
and generally composing myself after composting a quart of manure.
when the times are tough and the styles are hard,
it's SO much better to just get right deep into it.
it's not going to be easy either way,
so waiting around to begin just makes it suck longer.
...and who has that kind of time?
on the reals, neighbors-
there's no reasonable reason not to bring the noise,
and the heat,
and the thunder and lightning to whatever needs doing.
in this case, it was dinner.
and i needed a win, bro.
no foolin'.
i went with a standard staple of this Folk Life,
and then i veered off the path,
and made it molto molto expert.
word up.
shout outs to the moat mountain smokehouse for the inspiration,
and shout outs to pizza for always being there for me.
check the pee-eye-zee-zee-ayy-type teleport:

this was the last of the sourdough crusts i had slooooooooowly proofing in the fridge.
for the whole effing week.
the flavor was outstanding.
the crispness was immeasurable.
the pliability?
well, it was better than average,
especially considering that if you're not using a bigger quantity of dough,
i.e. non-sourdough = 4 pizzas; but sourdough yields only 3, for similar results-
if you're serious about that pizza life, you still rep four pies,
and use those pizzaiolo skills to keep those thinner, tighter crusts lookin' dope.
OBviously, you know i'm not some chumpleberry taking the easy road.
and thus, the last dough, still stayin' rad, was especially encouraging.
so, what's on it?
everything i needed to have a good meal, and a better night.
chili-garlic peanut SAUCE!
1/2 cup smooth, organic, unsweetened peanut butter;
2 T thai-style chili-garlic paste;
2 T rice vinegar;
1 T sriracha;
2 T agave.
patty and dennis came through for a second time in the same week
after i totally effed up and forgot pink salt and agave nectar at the supermarket.
i was lamenting aloud at my folly,
and they popped back by with both ingredients later the same day.
word up.
i am grateful for the folks who truly care.
i don't for a single second take that for granted.)
...moving on-
all of that, combined over low heat, until it's thickened,
and the succulent aroma rises up to tantalize you brainwaves an' that.
that's the bottom layer of the pie, guys.
over that, there are snipped pea tendrils;
and orange and yellow sweet baby-sized pepper rings;
diced red onion;
thinly-sliced jalapeno discs.

then there's those small cubes of seared exxxtra-firm spicy tofu.
that's a big yum for your tum, y'bum.
coconut oil, all hot and melty, and those 'fu cubes,
dusted with GPOP,
dashed with coriander seed,
spritzed up with crushed sriracha pepper flakes, fresh out of the grinder;
and glazed at the last moment with some of that agave!
that's the sort of stuff that gets me excited, man.
fried garlic sprankles made their mandatory appearance.
i don't play around when it comes to my garli'spranx, kids.
they make pizza taste better, every single time.
a fourgy of spoonfuls of sweet-and sour chili sauce,
(it's gotta be that mae ploy for your boy)
drizzled over all of that,
plus a few flaky sriracha sprankles along the crust,
to take that sourdough tang into the far-flung reaches of the future,
and wu-TNAG!
this sweet baby was ready to get baked up.
490F, 13 minutes, on a hearth stone.
hot ovens are sexy, bruh.
that's real talk.
that's it?
no way.
too much is the right amount,
and besides,
there are flavors that still needed activating.
garnished with more pea tendril snippets,
green onion slivers,
and big sprigs of fresh cilantro leaf.
expert as F*, right?
and since i usually eat it alone, i just cut it into quarters,
which is why there are four lime wedges waiting to juice it up.
THAI PIZZA MAGIC BOOMFIRE  all the way off the charts-
that's delicious to eleven.

for somebody who's feeling kind of cooked-out,
i'm definitely not eating poorly.
how about that?
maybe i just need to go OUT to eat for once?
could be.
i dunno what the issue is,
but i'm ready to get super-inspired and fired up all over again.
it's all really happening.
maybe that's the problem.
for every minute i'm thinking about food,
there are ten i'm trekking around with my turdblasting terrier
through terrible terrain,
and twenty more that i'm taking snow from one place,
and moving it to another.
and in between meals,
i'm wondering what the holy heck i'm even doing with my life.
all of it, really, unfurling on the winds of war and change.
i may be more distracted than usual.
i mean,
have i ever mentioned how i feel about both literal and metaphorical wind?
there are answers blowing in, i'll wager,
but they're like as not to bring more bad weather with them;
never quiet, never soft.....

No comments: