Thursday, March 23


homeamde RAVS, bro.
that's what we had.
me and my very close friend beau.
he came over,
and patiently waited for the dinnertime preparations to begin,
while i tended to my terrible terriers tempestuous 'testines.
crabtree ate something dumb, again-
somehow, during the six seconds within which i might not have
had him embedded deep inside my daily doings,
he found a piece of small plastic, ate it, wrecked his sensitive guts,
and coated himself in slime from out of both ends.
a bit.
but, beau knows, bros.
i mean, he's got a dog,
albeit a very laid-back and low-key good dog....
and he's worked at several dogsled kennels,
with animals more temperamental and challenging-
so he understands that sometimes,
you may go over to your friend's house for dinner,
but he has to get in the shower with,
and thoroughly shampoo and rinse off filth and effluent from,
his pupper's paws, jaws, sides, and back,
and that's before doing a load of diaperload-laden laundry,
and then,
and only then,
can the meal progress in earnest.
who still has an appetite?
homemade ravs.
guess who didn't get the proportions right for the dough on the first try?
did you guess it was me?
good job.
take two, however, yielded some sexxxy semi-semolina softness,
and that certainly set the stage for a new beginning.
that's take three, if you count the dog debacle at the onset...
we ended up with something good.
y'wanna see?
check the teleport:

butternut squash, squashed, with onion, garlic, vegan brick-hued baconic bits,
and minced daiya mozzarella.
the dough was dope, but the filling?
that jaun was expert.
the butternut was seared in oil, with the onion and garlic, until browned,
with GPOP, and thyme, and a tinkle of nutmeg.
the store-bought (*gasp*) baconish strips were diced into teentsy-tiny squares,
and tossed in long enough to darken up too;
and that's when we dropped in all the little bitty bits of daiya.
it was so good it was almost worth the incredible wait.
i mean,
dinner was at nine,. buddy.
that's three hours past when i'm starving!
but for real, though.
and is that a thick scoople of homemade nana-style chunky tomato sauce?
heck yes it is.
you think a little week away from reppin' marzo italiano 
was gonna make me forget all the secrets?
no way, giuseppe!
onion, garlic, and carrot,
diced, crushed, and minced,
in olive oil,
with fresh cubed tomato chunks tossed in, along with red wine vinegar,
and oregano, thyme, basil, and parsley,
plus a cup and a half of crushed tomatoes,
3 T tomato paste,
and cup of broth, to boot.
all that was missin' was the GPOP, nootch, salt, sugar, and black pepper.
guess what, though, neighbors?
i had those things, i added those things,
and we enjoyed every single last lycopene-laden driplet of that fantastic sauce.
some things shouldn't be measured,
the spices and herbs of a good marinara-style pomodoro deluxxxe are one of 'em.
that's a thing.
how do you adorn a bowl that elite?
ummmm, don't be dumb, dudes.
fried garlic and parsley, right on top, in quantity.
double up on the double down, and you'll be rewarded with each and every bite.
too much is the right amount,
so don't you go gettin' cheap on me now.
sourdough bread and an agave-glazed oil-toasted pumpkin-seede topped salad, too?
bread and sauce are best friends.
and salad is one hell of a wingman.
white balsamic vinegar and preposterously virginal olive oil complete the look.
did we scrape all the sauce out of the pot?
was there more bread?
did those little crimp-edged squash-stuffed circles hit the spot?
we had the mutha-'ucking formuoli, kid!!
shoutouts to long drives to bad places.
connecticut, here i come.
less than 24 hours of whirlwind roundtrip booster-shot family togetherness.
my daughters and i have a date with the theater.
and afterwards, who knows?
maybe we'll have a cupcake or three,
talk some sh!t,
span some time,
keep it super-real,
and remember how much we actually like each other.
that's something i think gets overlook by a lot of folks.
finding something to like about your kids.
i'm sure it isn't easy.
i mean, it is for me,
but that's just because these children i've helped make are really flippin' rad.
way more enjoyable to be around than i have ever been,
or likely ever will be, in fact.
that's why i'm headed down.
as they get older, i just get sadder.
distance isn't insurmountable, but only if the destination outweighs the journey.
that's no joke.
i'd go anywhere for those two, whether they know it or not.
and as they grow up, and and up, and away,
me and my hermity Folk Life feature less and less prominently.
that's what the woodsly goodness costs.
absence is supposed to make the heart grow fonder,
but really,
time takes the win in the end,
and that only works if nothing better is happening wherever you actually are.
for me,
i only love them more and more,
for them?
they're busy little bees,
and they're in a constant state of becoming something better.
so i'm just grateful for the time we'll share,
and i'm counting the drive as a worthwhile investment.
the destination outweighs the journey.
that's it;
never quiet, never soft.....

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