Tuesday, December 26


y'boi was on that kevin mcallister jauns,
on christmas eve,
in the plummeting temperatures, darkened cloudy skies,
and solemn labor pains of what might've been a bummer,
had i been less of a worthy warrior poet and active participant,
and more of a diapery doodoo-butt-baby.
i may have been home alone, but i remained undeterred from celebrating.
that's no joke-
i don't need company around to bring the noise.
i just need pots, pans, and a plan.
...and i had all those things.
y'know what else i had?
the mutha-F*in' formuoli!!!!
wordimus prime!
check the teleport:

homemade just tastes better, and that's a fact.
do you like ravioli?
you do?!
me too!!!
but, how many do you think you could take down in one shot?
because i dominated a few dozen, and then some, like it wasn't even no damned thing.
for realsies, neighbors, i was determined to put it to it,
and i did exxxactly that.
holidays are mostly about food.
and presents, where applicable, but that was for the following morning, man.
the night before was dedicated to these ravs,
and i did myself a solid with this one.
the dough? homemade.
the butternut sauce? from scratch.
the filling? custom.
the sprankles? expert.
have you been naughty? nice? how about hungry?
all of those will get you the recipe, because i'm not santa;
and that means  i don't determine who deserves to make dope ravs and who does not.
here's how to doo-doo these sexxxy circles of savory semolina perfection:
in a small mixing bowl, combine:
1/2 cup four;
3/4 cup semolina flour;
1/2 tsp salt;
3 T olive oil;
1/2 cup warm water.
knead it for 5 solid minutes, and wrap it to rest until you';re ready for rolling it.
i made slightly serrated circles, about 2" apiece, and i got enough to press together
around thirty 'olis...so almost sixty or so, all told.
in a medium/small pan,
1/4 cup minced onion, caramelized;
1/4 cup minced red sweet pepper, seared until soft and ever so slightly blackened at the edges;
3 cups shredded spinach, wilted under a teaspoon or two of salty pasta-boilin' water...
1 big clove crushed garlic;
GPOP, pink salt, black pepper; fresh thyme.
it's simple, but it's incredible.
y'put that, cooled, into the cut circles, and crimp the edges with a fork.
then, because good pasta is easy to make, but rules is rules,
y'gotta let 'em sit on the counter and firm up before you boil them.
and when you boil them, in that covered vat of saline, y'only gotta go it 'til they float.
that's when they're ready.
you COULD toss 'em in sauce, or oil, first.....
i just prefer mine to look nicey-nice so i can see the pure form,
before i defile their al-dente outer shells with thick slippery succulence.
sorry, guys,
but the truth is i'm just sorta like that.
the pasta was tight and TILTY af.
and yet, it was only 1/3 of the BIG action.
next stop:
in a medium pot, on medium heat, soften:
3/4 chopped onion in 2 T vegan butterish;
add salt, and 1 clove crushed garlic;
when the onions are translucent,
dollop in 2 T tomato paste, and stir it ruthlessly, letting the whole thing toast up.
(that should smell A-MAZ-ING, if it doesn't, you effed up, or you're broken)
add 3 cups chopped, peeled butternut squash,
and let that slip around in the pasty onion mash...
cover all of it with 4 cups of veggie broth,
add a big shake of GPOP, a few tablespoons of fresh sage and rosemary,
salt, black pepper, a little bit of cayenne,
a healthy spoonful or two of nutritional yeast,
and let it simmer until the squash is soft.
do you have a stick mixer? y'know? an immersion blender?
the magic wizard whizzer is key here.
if you don't, go get one, they're pretty expert on those occasions where they're needed.
mostly, they hide in your gadget pantry.
still, it's better to have it and rarely use it
than to need it and instead find yourself effing around with a blender or food processor.
i'm not sayin', i'm just sayin'.
but, you're going to want to smootherize the sauce/soup/squash stuff.
and then, you're going to want to eat A LOT of it.
do both of those things.
and if you're timing things right,
the squash takes about forty-five minutes from start to finish,
so you could make dough, start the soup, blast out the filling,
get a pot of water on the path to boiling, roll dough, cut shapes,
drop filling in 'em, cover, pinch, crimp, ad rest them all,
then whizzz that soup while the ravs are about to float,
and, if you're truly about that feisty feasty boy life,
you'll have been frying up all your sprankles on that back burner.
well, yes-
too much IS the right amount,
and four kinds of spranks seems like the correct course of action to me, at least
a big ladle of orange hottness,
a fat spoon droppin' 'olis,
and then the final portion fo your final grade, the mandatory exxxtras.
fry up some baby bellas, until the moisture and sliminess are erased.
blacken up a half dozen halved sweet grape tomatoes.
brown a big batch of garlic slices on both sides,
and grab a handful of that rocket, man.
arugula, bro, it's a veg-e-ta-ble.
how good is it?
it's the best.
how much is there?
if you're determined, you could crush it yourself,
if you're considerate, it'll satisfy a pair of you.
food is my constant companion.
and even better, i get to create it, destroy it, and let it nourish me.
that's infinitely better than watching a bunch of casual acquaintances,
or family members, get tuned up on the hooch.
...have i mentioned how ugly and unattractive i find alcohol consumption?
well, i do.
and the older i get, the less i feel guilty for staying away from the people and places
that partake and cater to that kind of unremarkable social decomposition.
it's just very simply not my thing, and believe it or not:
it's ok not to drink.
you will end up alone though, most times, and at most places,
so you'd better make friends with food, or get a dog, or both.
i said a dog.
cats are basically the drinking alcohol of the pet world,
and i like them just as little.
i rep a hard style, but it's very stylish regardless.
that's how i spanned my solo flight through the holiday pregame.
there will be dumplings.
because it's XI-MAS, man,
and we don't come through on some weak sh!t.
not once, not ever;
never quiet, never soft.....

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