i mean, c'mon.
sprankles are the best.
and i want 'em on just about everything.
which is why i made a little single layer cake-
...just to have something to get sprank'd on.
and it's a rainbow of deliciousness, and it's also coconut,
which just happens to rank very high on my list of best things.
take a quick look at what's poppin':
neighbors, a coconut cake is a glorious thing, provided you don't eff up the texture.
that means the order of operations, and the type of coconut are very very important.
i know you guys don't wanna make some budget-A* bullsh!t,
so first and foremost, skip that suckbomb sulphured chewy shredded stuff.
avoid that stuff if you're smart-
on the ones: that's dumdum coconut, and it's NOT invited to my makeout parties.
medium flake unsweetened natural bits are totally ON the menu,
and should be purchased in bulk whenever possible
so that you've got a backup supply, and a backup for your backup.
too much is the right amount.
i like a nice treat on the first of the month.
that's kind of my thing.
which is why i was up early early baking cake and whipping frosting.
i do that.
you want this particular coconut cake recipe?
preheat your oven to 350℉
grease a 9" springform pan (that's my move, buddy)
in your outstanding stand mixer, cream up:
2/3 cup sugar;
1/4 cup brown sugar;
2 tsp vanilla;
1 tsp coconut essential extract;
1/2 tsp salt;
1/2 cup vanilla unsweetened coconut yogurt;
1/2 cup (a.k.a.1 stick, a.k.a 8T) vegan butter.
1/2 cup coconut flakes;
and whisk again.
pour in 1 cup carton-style coconut milk,
and, that's right, whip it even MORE.
2 1/2 cups flour;
2 tsp bakey powder;
1 tsp bakey soda;
1/4 cup tapioca starch.
whip it into a frenzy,
spread it evenly in your cake pan,m
and bake it for like 37 minutes.
does that seem arbitrary? it is.
bake it until it's thoroughly done, dudes;
and then let it cool to room temperature on a wire rack.
the frosting is pretty standard stuff:
3 cups powdered sugar;
1 stick vegan butts;
1 tsp vanilla;
3 T powdered coconut flakes (pulverized in your spice grinder);
1/3 cup lowfat coconut milk.
for realsies, that's all there is to it.
and then y'gotta hit it with the double-sprank.
stars and standard dashes.
they're gross, but they're expert,
and they do their job every time.
i took my damned dumb dog for a sweaty bug-bitten bummer of a walk yesterday.
then, i did it again after work,
only with indian food awaiting me at the car.
take-away and parking lot picnic time
was the only way i could think of to welcome june to dinner.
and i'll tell you what-
spicy potatoes and peas and fried garam blops
and weird bread were exxxactly what i needed.
hot, humid nights, with hot, humid food, for my sweaty face.
what can i say?
i like the spice, and i like the nights, and while crabtree and i are all alone,
we're also outside, and out alongside the summertime vacation vibes, man.
nobody who is also walking around town is unhappy.
they're experiencing something resembling joy-
i'm experiencing my dog pooping and getting tired.
it's not the same, but it is the truth.
they're relaxing, and we're working at wearing ourselves down.
i'm not shy.
and i don't really ever feel ashamed.
that's the thing about thinking about what you're doing before you do it.
that's the thing about personal rational self-interested pro-active participation.
that's the thing about a head's up, eyes-open informed decision-making process.
y'feel me on this?
think about what you're doing, and why,
and make an assessment of the value of the investment.
then what the eff do you have to be shy or ashamed or worried about?
i think about that whenever i'm faced with meeting new people.
sure, i sometimes get embarrassed, but not really.
for sure, i'm old, i'm busted, i'm bald,
and things are most likely only going to continue sliding downhill faster
as time marches on-
but i still show up every damned day with confidence and charisma.
that's weird, right?
yeah, i know. but the mantra is:
stay ugly, stay dope, dude.
like, what else would i even do?
and besides, rules is rules.
i'm a generally outspoken advocate for the things i like and only the things i like,
which are admittedly few;
and i'm otherwise a big blustery blowhardy loudmouth critic about everything else,
which is literally everything else.
i look how i look,
which is half cultivated and curated personal style,
and the rest being nature's idea of a test of endurance-
for real: how much like a female orangutan can one man look?
(the males have those brazil nuts on the sides of their face, and i'm not about that life)
we're finding out a little more every day...
no, really, nature, thanks for the eight foot long arms-
who wouldn't want world-record spaghetti-noodles sprouting from their shoulders?
and while i exercise so i don't blarp out, because i'm not gonna eat less cake, bro.
it's not like i'm body building, so i'm certainly not showing off.
i even color coordinate my clothes so i'll look like i give half of a sh!t-
on the ones, shouldn't your tattoo artist be paying attention to little details?
and while i'm maybe a little insecure about my perpetually unfortunate haircut situation,
that's more for professional appearances and maxxxmized income generation
than general embarrassment at this ever-expanding scalp:hairline ratio.
you get what you get, you feel how you feel, you like what you like.
being shy isn't gonna get you anywhere.
i'll be at the studio all weekend, just like every weekend, just like every flippin' day.
i'm ready and willing to interact with any and everyone,
and all of y'all are more than welcome to have a slice of cake with me.
let's talk about something,
let's talk about everything,
let's be open and honest and upfront and see where that takes us;
never quiet, never soft.....