you were swift, but severe.
the highs were unimpressive,
but the lows?
i'm referring not only to the forty-something degree mornings i've woken to this week,
i mean, that's some bullsh!t, for sure-
i'm speaking on the lapses, losses, lacking, longing, and lamentations, too.
july was kind of a drive-by dis and dysentery diarrhea dispersal from the darkest depths
and the dourest, sourest currency exchange in all creation.
for every good thing, there was an aggressively greater negative response.
here's the thing, tho-
that's what we do.
giving up has never ever ever ever been available as an option,
it's up to us to strap on our hipwaders, and slog through the sh!t-bog of tough times,
until we emerge, a little grosser, but nonetheless a lot stronger,
somewhere ahead of the horizon, as far away as that may seem at first.
it's about to be august, guys.
that's a great name, and a great month,
and not for nothin', we get to choose our own adventures.
i'm choosing to charge into the unknown headlong, headstrong, and head over heels,
with intention and attention and affection and infectious effective invention,
a full-force fresh-to-death interjection of introspection and intersectional expoeriences.
do you feel me or what?
we're on a mother-F*ing ADVENTURE.
so, let's get adventurous, bro.
like, right now.
i effs with italian food a whole lot more often since marchentine's marzo italiano
made my mouth so happy with all that sauce.
i figured i deserved a monstrous mealtime heap of hottness,
so i went ahead and made that for myself.
hunter's feast, bro.
obvi, i can't hang out with hunting,
but i sure as heckfire ca hang out with homemade seitan,
breaded and seared up, over all that succulent savory sauce.
with those brown baby bellas!
like, salt, olive oil, heat, and sliced 'shrooms-
all kinds of big mommy umami in effect, right there, boy.
what else is in there?
all the goods, guys.
in a biggish saucepan, saute:
1/2 sweet onion, roughly chopped;
1 each sliced small red, orange, and yellow bell peppers;
1 large stalk celery, thinly bias-sliced;
1 cup halved grape tomatoes.
with olive oil, and blac pepper, get all that a-sizzlin',
toss in oregano, sage, thyme, basil, parsley, and rosemary.
hit it with a punch of nootch, a heavy-handed shake of GPOP,
and then zap it with a splash of red wine vinegar,
add one 14oz can sliced stewed tomatoes,
plus 3/4 canful of hot water,
and a scoop of better than bouillon vegetable soup base.
add the bella babes,
simmer all of that until starts to thicken up,
season accordingly with salt and pepper and red pepper flakes.
i also tossed in some fire roasted tomato flake sprankles,
but only because rules is rules, man.
y'gotta sprank it up exxxtta whenever you can.
more garden fresh oregano and parsley made it sexxxy,
but the seitan took it into the stratosphere of deliciousness-
cornstarch, flour, smoked paprika, chia seeds, GPOP, and garbanzo flour,
small scoops of everything, sifted and spread out
within which to dredge all that awesome seitan steakiness in.
it's sorta simple, once you get started.
oil, a hot pan, those herby-crusty cutlets.
what else do you even need?
probably some of that farro , really.
and that's just because if you've got it, y'gotta get it.
besides, it's super good.
boiling salty water and time are all you need to make it happen.
and if you've got a plan in place, it'll all be ready all at once.
with shredded radicchio and parsley,
and a slice of homemade white mountain white sourdough?
if you can't get down with that much hottness,
i don't think it's likely you're gonna get invited to dinner over here anytime soon.
a good dinner can make or break a day.
i was busy busy busy AF all morning and afternoon.
i was jam packed and running late at work,
all for trying to activate that one extra walk-in squeeze on an long-absent client,
and when i got home i was lost as to what to make...
until i called crabtree a crappy cacciatore,
and in that instant, my pet's pet name had me in the kitchen getting expert right off.
i did NOT enjoy myself this month.
however, i took care of what needed taking care of,
and that's what being a F*ing responsible adult is.
it's not fun, but it isn't static.
there's dynamic doings of the least intrinsically delightful sort all unfolding
along the time-worn creases of spirit and memory.
it's ALL really happening, and i'm ready for an august explosion of awesomeness;
never quiet, never soft.....