Monday, June 11


long-time clients at a tattoo studio are great.
they know about your life, you know about their life-
you're close to each other, you care about each other,
and you have a trusting relationship.
that's all good stuff.
it's better for new clients to see the practiced ease and confidence
that old-timers have in a studio setting as well-
that sort of comfortable familiarity puts everybody at ease,
and brings the overall mood up a few notches,
so that we're all included and involved and working together to have a good time.
the environment is important, man.
yes, the work has to be tip-top-notch, or you're fired-
but, the experience is as important as the outcome-
which is why i was in high spirits yesterday-
good tattoos, on good dudes, and good times at AMPERSAND TATTOO
were all in F*ing full effect, and it affected me positively- 
so much so i was fully inspired to create a masterpiece pasta dinner.
after zip-zapping on nothing but menfolk all day, i needed to cleanse my palate
with some freshie-fresh italiano hottness of my own design.
that's real.
while i appreciate all the time i spanned with my clients,
and i remain grateful for the opportunity to create unique 
and interesting pictures ON them as the way to earn a living,
which i recognize and acknowledge as a privilege i won't take for granted,
i still need to make things that are fully formed from my own mind, man;
all y'all can get what you want from me during regular business hours- 
but when the day is done, and the door is locked, 
and i get home to crabtree the dog, 
and the test kitchen at the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress
that time is MY time, and what i'm making is molto italiano, and 
magnifico like you read about.
y'feel me? well, you should- check the formuoli-type teleport:
foldover flaps, pan-fried in browned vegan butter,
and tossed with white balsamic vinegar?!?
i do not ever want to have budget storebought ravs, bruh.
and after a bowl like this? i doubt i could choke those lesser jauns down at gunpoint.
real talk.
they're stuffed to the limit with sweet potato, spinach, rosemary, garlic, 
and miyoko mozzarella-
the dough is my classic semolina supersexxxiness.
and the exxxtras? 
too much is the right amount, buddy. 
there's no other way.
here's all the details for you to drool over:
it started with the dough-
1 cup semolina flour;
1 1/2 cups a.p. flour;
1 tsp salt;
3 T olive oil;
>1 cup warm water.
kneaded into oblivion in an uprighteous stand-up mixer with a dough hook on it-
rested and allowed to do it's thing, 
before being rolled and cut into 3" circles on a verrry well-floured surface-
a big ol' pot of salty water got boilin', whilst the filling was activated on the stovetop-
in a small sauce pot, with aglug's worth of olive oil,
1 1/4 cups minced sweet potato, skin-on for exxxtra vitamins.
2 cloves of crushed garlic;
1/2 tsp rosemary;
1 T nutritional yeast;
1/2 tsp ea. GPOP.
let all that simmer and sizzle, then drizzle in:
4 tsp white wine vinegar;
pink salt and black pepper,
and 3 cups of shredded spinach (which cooks down to a thimbleful, it seems).
let the potato steam and soften up, then set it all aside to cool,
or your filled pouches will suck sh!t and disintegrate, which is NOT invited.
a pinch of that sexxxy miyoko exxxpensive cashew mozzarella,
a spoonful of the stuffin',
and a little moisture to close the semi-circles, 
with fork-crimps to assure maxxximized seal, 
is all that had to happen to make that part of the program a complete triumph.
after boiling them until they were afloat,
and draining them with a spider (there were 30+ ravioli)
i dropped each and everyone of them into a big fat hot pan, 
with 3 T browned vegan earth balance butter waiting to sizzle onto their skins. you have any idea how expert that is?
well, it all got turned up much much more after that.
the piping hot, buttery ravs then got flipped and turned upside-down 
and tossed around in a tablespoon or two of balsamic bianco, broski.
white balsamic-glazed turbo-hottness goes to eleven, neighbors.
trust me, or try it yourself, but either way you'll agree,
this brand new-new is the TRUTH.
is that all?
no way. don't be dumb.
you saw the pictures, already-
we got freshie-fresh baby basil leaves everywhere.
there's toasted walnuts, which really added some superheroic strength to the dish.
and blistered tomatoes for the ultimate winner's circle experience.
baby tomatoes blown up in a shallow bath of boiling water.
they're soft, they're cooked, but they're also largely intact, 
so they burst and exxxplode and generally activated the ultimate in delicious dopeness.
now, is THAT all?
i told you- too much is the right amount.
and that's why there's a few cloves' worth of fried garlic sprankles.
that's how you doo-doo the freakiest sh!t...
crispy af, tight as hell, and terrifically expert.
there's something in the air.
i don't know what it is, exactly.
pollen? pheromones? i dunno.
but it's definitely SOMEthin', 
and it's circulating around the woodsly goodness.
wherever i go, i can feel it. 
like i'm breathing in lust and dust and hunger and hot fire all at once.
it could be summertime,
it could be unbridled and unrivaled passion pouring out of my own pores, even,
but it is for sure NOT bike week.
it's that time of year again where every single bummer of a person who owns 
a gas-powered two-wheeler shows up to suck super hard at being alive.
it's awful.
loud mobs of losers wearing dead cows and goatees all waving at each other
in between stops for hamburgers.
not dope.
not one bit.
meanwhile, i'm inhaling some sort of barbarian passionfruit essence,
and these dum-dums are trying to ruin it.
i'm not gonna let 'em,
and i'm also probably not gonna tattoo 'em.
i'm booked with those repeat clients anyway,
and besides, 
i'm pretty sure we're sold out of whatever they're looking for, 
and that's no joke;
never quiet, never soft.....

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