that cause if i see a stand with a kid selling buckets of blueberries,
i'm probably gonna buy some.
what if it's a nice old lady?
that's weird to me.
how about if it's a dude, like, in a lawn chair?
a youngster, with a sh!tty sign, and a grin?
you'd better believe i'm about to champion that endeavor,
and give that little nerd some of my somewhat-hard-earned loot.
i mean, c'mon-
kids with jobs are better than regular-A* kids, for sure.
any blueberries from the woodsly goodness that i don't have to hunch over
and rake up with that kitty-littery scoopler are better than the ones i do.
everybody wins when there's kids with blueberries.
that's all i'm sayin'.
well, everybody but that dirty dude in the lawn chair.
i got myself a tub of bloobs,
and i got myself into some cakey situations.
i tried to do it differently, and i guess i mostly did.
here's what i ended up with:
you like that color scheme?
how 'bout all those wildflowers?
straight off of a walk through the 'hood with crabtree,
who stops routinely to sniff all of 'em, like a little romantic....
...and then he eats bees.
there's birds and beasts and buds and blooms blowing up around here.
that's a fact.
would you like some cake?
you'll have to make your own, as this one has already been eaten all up.
here's how you doo-doo that freaky sh!t for yourself:
preheat your oven to 365℉.
in your trusty much-needed stand mixer, whisk together:
1 1/4 cup sugar;
1 stick (8T) softened earth balance butterish;
2 tsp vanilla;
1/2 tsp salt;
2 tsp lemon zest;
1/2 cup non-dairy vanilla (or blueberry) yogurt.
once that's a sloppy bowlful of blops,
2 1/2 cups flour;
2 tsp baking powder;
1 tsp baking soda;
1/4 cup tapioca starch;
1 cup wild maine/nh bloobs, or whatever you've got- fresh not frozen,
and small ones not big cultivars.
you're a wild thing, blueberries from these lowlow bushes,
and you make my heart sing.
everything will be groovy once you pour in 3/4 cup non-dairy milk,
and whip it up really well.
a 9" springform, greased and floured, to get things going in the right direction,
and about 36 minutes on the convection setting,
or longer if you're just using passive heat.
do you know what a thoroughly baked cake looks like?
almost exactly like an almost-all-the-way-baked one.
use a tester to be sure- that's something pointy and long, stabbed gently into the center,
to see if it's battery still, or cooked through.
if it comes out gloppy, give it a few more minutes, man.
you can do it.
when it's cool, after you've popped the ring on that spring,
and given it some time to dissipate all it's steamy blueberry moisture out into the world,
y'gotta decorate that circle of wild magic.
rules is rules,
and that means simple is NOT invited to the makeout party, bro.
there's betterthanevercreme vanilla forsting up on there-
that's 1 stick butts;
3 cups powpow sugs;
1 tsp vanilla;
an almost nonexistent scant few grains of salt;
1 tsp of lemon juice;
whipped and whipped and whipped up into a frenzy for your face.
<1 cup="" milk="" non-dairy="" of="" p="">
there's a tsp of powdered freeze-dried blueberry dust,
added to 1/4 cup of kapowdered sugary goodness,
with a drop of vanilla,
and 'milk added a drop at a time, until a squeezable sauce is formed.
pipe that out in stripes of checkerboards of pollocks plops, but definitely add it on.
that's what makes it dope.
is that all?
ugh. you're killing me,
you can see from the picture that it isn't bro.
bettery frosting swirls,
AND bloober swirls had to happen.
too much is the right amount.
anything less is for suckers.
if you had the right color sugar, i'd say to add some sprankles, too.
but you can bet i will next time.
until then, it's cake time every time all the time.
cake is dope, and cake-lovers are too.
that's what i keep telling myself.
it's almost time.
almost the big moment.
almost when my very own vision becomes my very own special place,
my forward observation post,
my fresh-to-death Folk Life art-making firebase on the front lines.
but it isn't there yet.
that could be because masterpieces aren't just sh!t out on command,
but rather nurtured and ciltivated and prepared an' that.
everything just takes too long, is a hassle or a hard-to-handle heavyweight burden,
or the help can't hang out with the hard-styled deadass deadlines in place.
it's all really happening, on it's own time, in it's own way,
all the rings bend to the will of the one, man.
i'm focused, and my eyes are wide open.
this next step is straight up indiana jones' last crusade style.
i can't see where it stops, but i'm holding faith that i'm on the right track;
never quiet, never soft..... 1>