Sunday, September 9


i had a night to myself to do whatever i wanted,
and all i wanted were expert vegan overstuffed soft flour tacos.
jeez, neighbors, my big chance to get wild, 
and i spent most of it feeling like a thousand pound beached whale.
too much is the right amount,
and that's no joke.
soft flour fancy vegan eats?
yes please.
i love tacos.
you do too, and you know it.
i made four tacos that felt like forty tacos,
and i'm gonna keep it real with you, dog-
they were F*ing awesome-
check 'em out:

BEANS ON BEANS, with alllllll the fixin's.
i got some new authentic soft four flaps from the grocer,
and they're thicker, but softer, and way better than the old style i was reppin'.
i'm serious-
the right tortilla can transform a whole day, not just a meal, man.
that's real.
here's the line-up inside each one:
nootch-boosted ho'sauce-activated refried pinto beans;
smoky, spicy black beans with red bell pepper;
purple carrot and radish;
lettuce and cilantro;
pickled jalapenos;
sweet onion and scallion;
brown-on-purpose grape tomatoes;
sweet black-peppery fried pepitas;
that's a lotta hottness-
and with a scoople of fire-roasted tomato salsa on each?!
they went to eleven, and then they kept right on going, bro.
the refritas?
so tight and TILTY.
that's 15oz of mashed beans,
with 1 T olive oil,
1/4 minced sweet onion,
1/4 cup minced sweet bell and jalapeno pepper;
generous shakes of GPOP and black pepper, 
2 T nutritional yeast;
2-3 T ho'sauce (i do texas pete, he's my homeboy)-
and that's IT.
but, like, DAS IT, though, too,.
those black beans?
simple simple simple.
it's just a cup of beans and a couple of slivered red peppers 
(i use the minis, because they're kyooot, but like a quarter cup, tops)
a little bitty baby bit of cilantro stems, finely chopped,
and a spoonful of olive oil, in a very hot pan-
all fired up with a shake of GPOP
and a little fresh oregano and thyme, 
and a heavy spoonful of smoked paprika and a baby shake of cayenne-
plus a lime's worth of juice,
sizzled up and set aside for you to enjoy,
with a crack or ten of black pepper, just to make sure it''s expert.
do you toast your tortillas?
well, you do now-
they're better that way, so don't keep missing out because you're a lazy bumhole, buddy.
all the crawncy veggies were on point.
lechuga y cilantro y zanahoria púrpura y rábano?
i had that freshie-fresh poppin' SO much.
and the double onions?
man, listen, i was home alone, but my breath was so bad, 
it was bothering people in the afterlife-
damn. worth it, for sure, but daaaaaaamn, y'boi had the dragon, son.
what about those glazed pepitas?
sprankles are essential, so i had that essence in full effect-
oil, black pepper, a handful of pumpkin seeds, 
and a spoonful of raw sugar, caramelized on top.
easy, if you're paying attention to the very hot pan 
you're melting and frying and sizzlin' it all in.
i was, and they were great, and with the pickled jalapenos on top?
you can't even feel the ferocity of a superstuffed diaperload of dopeness like this
unless you're squeezing lime on top and feeling how flippin' heavy it is.
that's no joke.
they had weight on 'em, b.
fire roasted tomato salsa.
that's that good-good that gets it going harder and harder, holmes.
i make it basically the same always, 
with minor adjustments for ingredients as they're available.
one large-and-in-charge can of crushed muir glen fire roasty jauns-
half a red onion;
one whole stripey variegated bell pepper;
one jalapeno;
one habanero;
three loves of fresh garlic;
1/2 bunch of fresh cilantro;
a spoonful of cumin; 
a smaller spoonful of crushed coriander seed;
freshly cracked pink salt AND black pepper;
a manly shake of GPOP;
lots of lime;
and a pulsing powerspin in your trusty and necessary food processor-
...all the best things on a taco are represented here.
that's how you do it when there's no time limits 
and the only pressure you feel is to capture the fading evening light.
i doo-doo that, and i did it SO hard i was beached and bloated,
but also so filled and fulfilled and full of food and happiness.
i'll take a shark-glutton gorgefest where i can find one, friends.
and i located the fountainhead of flour tortillas and tapped in to the spring.
if it is not your friend, then truly it is an enemy to be feared.
y'feel me?
anybody can have a cursory craptacular relationship with things to eat,
and no knowledge of ingredients or technique-
of all the things that you HAVE to do, this is the one that has 
the most opportunities for excellence.
we all dwell on the minutiae of the mundane-
car parts and clothes labels and sports stats or whatever-
but those are choices that don't actually matter at all to our survival-
we HAVE to eat.
or we die.
and i choose to LIVE like a king, and EAT like a king,
and sure, maybe my sovereignty isn't going to reach into empire status,
but within the hallowed halls and walls of my small woodsly goodsly mountainous world,
i have a hell of a lovely life.
i'm grateful for the time i've been given,
and i'm sorta psyched that a taco or two or three (or more) \
can upgrade my whole weekend into something awesome.
like, i'm STILL thinking about friday tacos, guys.
they were that good.
the things i need to stay alive are also the things i love about life.
how lucky is that?
it's all really happening,
and i'm feeling like maybe i'm onto something here;
never quiet, never soft.....

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