Wednesday, March 8


here's how it started:
i worked late.
i hate doing that, but i was busy saving the day.
the only other dude who sometimes comes to work didn't do that,
so i scooped up his people in addition to my people,
and i was running behind about a hour the whole damned time
because that's what happens when you try to do the nice.
it effs you like you're at the drive-thru.
no joke.
i got home as hungry as heckfire,
but not so much so that i'd settle for leftovers.
i mean, rules is rules, man.
i've got a system in place for this year,
and it's designed around dominating the food situation
here at the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress all the flippin' time.
that means i need that new hottness.
so i got in the door, and first things first,
i hooked up my little homeboy.
oh, y'know who-
my little bro, my hermanito, my main mango...
i took care of crabtree,
who was fired up from his added hour of incarceration,
and in exchange he 'helped' me put away the groceries.
then, while he ate his gross dinner,
i made my expert one.
that's not quite teamwork, but it worked.
check out what i came up with on the fly, guys:

kapow, and wow!
the crust was a happy accident, really.
see how puffy and luscious it looks?
i totes forgot i put bakey pow-powder in there in the beginning.
luckily it worked out in my favor.
check the dough recipe, dudes:
1 1/2 cups white whole wheat flour;
one smallish shakey-shake of salt;
4 T vegan butter;
4 T olive oil;
2 T fire-roasted tomato flakes;
1/2 tsp rosemary;
1/2 tsp thyme;
black pepper;
1.5 tsp bakey powder;
1/4 cup + 2 T non-dairy milk.
^ i started the dough in the food processor to cut in the fats,
but i moved it over to a separate bowl,
and added the 'milk' to make it wet and kneadable
once i admitted to myself the chopper wasn't gonna get it done.
i let the resultant righteous round ball of dough take it easy for a minute
while i cut some tomatoes up.
i preheated the oven to 415F, arbitrarily.
there are two small potatoes, each sliced into eleven equal slabs of
>1/4" thick mandoline-cut awesomeness-
that's one white-flesh, red-skinned new new, and one yellow-on-yellow jaun, too-
(having more potato variety can only bring you more happiness)
oiled, salted, and baked as the oven preheated.
...that's multitasking, neighbors.
it's good for you.
and when they were golden, i knew i was too,
so i ponyboy'd myself that molto fresh-to-death torta-morta for my mouth.
check the method, man-
the dough got rolled larger than that brand new cast iron skillet,
and in the center, and a little more heavily around the edges,
there's daiya mozzarella.
over that, i thinned out some of my custom cashew-garlic underchee',
with added GPOP, nootch, and soymilk,
and burrata-be-kidding'd another layer of flavor.
the potatoes went next,
topped by a shredded and caramelized small sweet onion.
how much is enough?
i don't know exactly,
but you can be surer-than-sh!t that
too much is the right amount.
which is why there's also thinny-thin-thin red onion ringlets on there, too.
after that,
it was just putting the sexy to it that had to be taken care of-
heirloom rainbow tomatoes, cut up and laid out,
with fresh thyme and sage and rosemary,
a dusting of nootch and fresh coarse-cracked black pepper,
and fried garlic sprankles,
plus a bake time of about 20 minutes on the convection function,
and WOW, dudes.
that little puffed-up wheat treat was savory, and succulent, and smooth.
a bit of fresh peppery rocket garnish, too?
i had it poppin',
even though my whole night was set back by my work ethic on both fronts.
that's how real warrior poets do what they do.
i mean it.
you work hard,
you pay attention,
you know stuff,
and process information, and experience, through the filter of time,
to gain wisdom and insight,
which, i turn,
is applied to the three initial principles all over again.
it's progress, it's a process, it's a symbiotic synergy,
and it's all really happening to the really-realest committed, competent,
capable and inescapably, imperturbably, incorruptibly expert individuals
who understand how this just be dope sh!t works.
here's a hint:
you just. be. dope.
failing that,
you F*. right. off.
everything else is a big fat load of self-delusion;
never quiet, never soft.....

No comments: