Monday, February 12


y'all remember the adventures of pete and pete?
i do.
i was a little old to be watching it;
except, it was a F*ing awesome show,
and avoiding experiences because i'm too old for them is NOT really my thing.
i'm going to remain young at heart, young at work, young til i die, etc etc.....
but, getting back to those two petes-
i have always remembered one episode,where pink eye eats fig newlies.
most (some) of us have had fig newtons,
but the casual mention, with no preamble, of fig newlies,
always struck me as genius.
i have been saying it for literal decades since.
yesterday, whilst cleaning up a bit,
i found a bag of sun-dried figs,
and voila!
fig newlies were being broadcast from my brain immediately.
i rolled some pastry dough,
i rolled some cocoa into some of it,
some dried strawberry into some more of it,
and i popped open a small jar of vanilla chestnut cream.
pureed cooked chestnut paste, with vanilla bean.
what was the result?
one really rockin'-good galette,
as it will be rememered hereabouts-

so simple, but so good.
the oven was already super-hot from fresh bread baking.
therefore, it was just a matter of assembly.
i had plenty of pastry dough,
and the other bits were basically already ready.
chestnut cream on the bottom,
sliced fried figs on top,
and twenty something minutes in the oven at 410℉.
that's no joke all it took.
and it tastes fabulous.
for realsies.
it was a giant confidence builder, honestly.
like, there's so little going on, for something that wholly has got it going on-
and even though it's looking sexxxy as hell,
if we're telling the truth,
there's just a bunch of brown blops inside of it.
the days are flying by, despite being packed ot the brim with activity.
that's good news.
the nights, tho.
those jauns are dragginnnnnnnng.
it turns out, while i'm not a social creature by design,
i need the comfort and companionship of a capable communicator by my side.
soon enough, but not soon enough,
the woodsly goodness will have the woman i like most
back in the wintry embrace of this mountainous vale.
until then,
it's tarts instead of tarts,
and noods instead of nudes.
i'll take all i can until i get what i want.
that's the only option i can live with,
so i'm living without, until we're reunited.
another 'nother night will pass, and another, and so on,
until eventually,
the preferable routine is set aright.
it's happening, slowly,
but times is moving forward regardless;
never quiet, never soft.....

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