Sunday, May 7


rainy days, for days,
are what's slaking the woodsly goodness's deep thirst,
and soaking the livin' sh!t out of the soil,
and also soaking my coat, and crabtree's coat,
while we walk the slippery trails that weave between roads and waterfalls,
all across what i consider my neighborhood,
but what is more accurately just a collection of disconnected hills,
and houses.
and people who don;t hang out with each other ever...
that's it, ma.
live free, and alone, and die-
that's what i believe we've amended the state motto to in these northern mountains.
the rain, though.
there's soooo much of it.
it's so backwards and backwoods up here,
we even get the seasons after everybody else...
for real. our april showers happen in may, it guess.
here's the thing-
i'm gonna walk the dog in the worst weather,
so i'm gonna need the best breakfast to temper my temper.
that's real.
nothing quite makes a man go mad like a recalcitrant terrier in terrible weather,
on the other hand, nothing calms the storm inside, in spite of what's outside,
like a big ol' batch of heroically hot and sweet cinnamon buns.
where did that come from?
from the oven, obvi.
c'mon, man.
it all always leads back to food.
and the destination, before and after our sopping sloppy journey,
was an inhuman helping of cinnamon and apple and bun.
yep. apple.
that's right.
check the apple-pie-roll-up-type teleport:

cast-iron spitfires, spiced-up so nicely,
with ALL the gooey apple magic,
AND the buttery brown sugar,
AND with exxtra cinnamon IN the flippin' dough, bro.
word up.
i even did a smart thing, for a change, and made the apple stuff first, and let it cool,
so it wouldn't eff up the roll-up.
mhmm. once in a while, i get it right.
here's how it's done, just in case you feel especially makey anytime soon:
3 peeled and cored medium-sized crisp apples, chopped into shrapnel;
(i used my salsa nerdifier, because it's just too good at doing what i want)
1/3 cup brown sugar;
1 tsp vanilla;
1 tsp cinnamon;
a dash of nutmeg, and one of ginger;
2 tsp lemon juice;
2 T rolled oats;
4 tsp cornstarch;
cooked down, and thickened up,
so the syrup from the sugary apple juiciness gels together and the apple scraps are all soft.
let it cool,
and in a separate bowl,
combine 4 T vegan butts, and 1/3 cup brown sugar,
for spreading down between the dough and the fruit.
...and the dough?
it's so DO(pe), doe.
preheat your oven to 375°F
3 1/4 cups flour;
1 tsp wheat gluten;
1/4 cup brown sugar;
1 pkg fast-actin' yeast;
1 tsp cinnamon;
1 tsp vanilla;
3 tsp melted butterish;
1/2 tsp salt;
1 egg's worth of potato starch (1 T powder + 2 T hot water)
and 1 cup warmed non-dairy milk
in your mandatory stand mixer,
beat that all up until it's a sticky but firm dough, about five minutes.
-let it rise, covered, for 15-20 minutes,
and roll it into a rectangle on a well-floured surface.
first spread the buttery sugs, then the apples,
leaving at least an inch on one long side of your dough to stick it to itself.
that's important, because wettish apple scruffs are sloppy,
and will spill out all over the place if you don't.
wrap and freeze the dough for about ten minutes.
y'gotta, or you'll have a limp mess on your hands.
remove, unwrap, and slice that sucka into 12 pieces,
arranged on parchment in BIG a cast-iron pan.
let that rise another 'nother 20 or so,
and bake 'em up for about 30 minutes-
when they're golden, they're good.
give the whole thing a little minute to cool off enough that icing won't instantly
dissolve into clear, runny crap.
i make mine exxxtra-thiqqq, anyway-
just in case.
iced apple-pie cinnamon buns.
i feel like maybe if i repeat myself,
you'll better understand what i'm telling you.
they're what you need, when you've got to go outside and do stuff,
but going outside sucks a big batch of buttholes.
these fix that.
i ate five of them before any semblance of self control asserted itself.
i do that.
too much is the right amount, after all.
i've got full days and full nights and more projects than attention to give them.
i guess it's better to feel hurried than to sit around being bored.
to be fair,
i haven't been bored by anything but average conversations for ages.
there's too much to do to get ennui from inaction.
wherever there's time,
there's work to be done.
that's the way it is,
and that's all there is.
i can't stop, or i won't,
but it's all the same, really;
never quiet, never soft.....

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