STRAWBERRY CREME!!!!!

how much do i love treats?

well, what's the most?

double that, 

and we're about halfway there...

strawberries, dudes.

strawberries are good.

and these butt-kickin' strawblers i have on hand,

although they are frozen, 

have been consistently firmer and sweeter and better 

than those that've come before.

also,

strawberries are cute.

they look like hearts, man.

c'mon.

i used whole ones in my most recent bakery magic,

and it got double-thumb-up reviews from the guys and gals who partook of it.

check it out:

CREME DREAMS AND STRAWBERRY FEELS, bro!

mmmhmmmm.

with hearts and flowers on top,

and raw sugar sprankles, too.

i don't ever make these things so i can be bummed out.

i do it because i love to,

because i am compelled to,

and because i want to continually improve my ever-expanding skillsets,

to include, and upgrade, and evolve into a better version of myself.

that's no joke.

i want to do everything creative, communicative, compassionate,

articulate, artistic, aesthetic, and expert.

that's the goal i aim at every damned day, duders.

anything else is diapery doo-doo butter, 

and is NOT invited to my makeout parties.

real talk.

also,

i want you guys to make this pastry dough.

i did things a bit differently, but it worked out well-

-

*

1 1/2 cups flour;

10 T butts;

pinch of salt;

1 tsp vanilla;

1/3 cup raw sugar;

2 T organic cornstarch;

2 T lemon juice;

non-dairy milk added in by the tablespoonful,

until there's just enough to make it stick together.

wrap and rest it and roll it out, as usual.

it's almost a cookie, really,

but better, and crispier, and also it has a little special something that really

put all those berries in their place.

the filling?

couldn't be simpler.

-

*

12 oz whole strawberries;

1/4 cup powdered sugar;

1/2 tub vegan creamchee';

2 T lemon juice;

1 tsp vanilla;

3 T organic cornstarch stirred in from the start, to prevent clumps,

whisked and warmed on medium-low heat, 

until it's all one big happy molten mass of momentous magic.

yummmmm.

-

cool it enough so as not to melt your dough when they touch each other,

cut your shapes, spread your stuff, and bake that sweet little lovely 

at 400F for 20 minutes.

word.

just.

like.

that.

you've landed in tart town, and you;re the big winner.

hooray for treats.

***********

the tattoo zone is F*ing crazy busy at the moment.

i guess that's the catch, really.

poor people stay poor by keeping me crushed under a constant press of 

their family-tribute tattoos.

on the ones,

child/spouse/grandparent/ family whatnots and what-have-you's

are rampant during income tax return season.

i guess if you live in the mountainous rural blue-collared woodsly goodness,

you reallllllly love your family,

and need to make sure that your windfall of released loot

is turned into a tribute to all those folks you see every day.

that withheld and returned treasure can NOT be invested in anything other than

more birthstone-colored butterflies, 

more infinity-themed faith-based images, 

and more letters doing double-duty as numerals.

don't get me wrong-

i am very grateful for the influx of income, as it is a temporary increase,

and a welcome boost after a long, cold, expensive winter.....

it's just that i could live a long time without doing another tattoo of a pocketwatch,

with the time of birth/death/ wedding on those hands.

man,

living in the remote hills of the north has so many things that are great.

tax return season, as we call it, is NOT one of them.

shoutouts to everybody getting something tattooed 

that is very meaningful to them, though.

they have to live with it, and as long as they leave,

preferably happy,

i promise to put their loot to a use proportionately more rewarding

than the time lost performing the service. 

neighbors,

i do tattoos.

and i'll do whatever you want.

i chose to be that guy.

and i left the rest in the rearview a long time ago.

but,

that doesn't mean a month of indistinguishable days doesn't take it's toll.

and that's why i need MORE tarts and sh!t.

what else could wash the taste of day-laboring out of my mouth better

than a luxurious slice of pure delights?

seriously,

i get home and let all that for-profit languishing catalyze into cultivated craftsmanship.

in pots and pans and trays and skillets.

it's IN there.

i'd love to let it loose at work,

but if work finances the rest of it?/

well,

it's all still really happening,

but i'm still curating the sections that i find more interesting.

maybe i'll write more about tattooing once the repetition of this 

snowy gulag of overlapping and monotonous task-taking is done.

i guess we'll find out,

but in the meantime,

go make yourself a strawberry creme tart.

you'll be glad you did;

never quiet, never soft.....

SAINT PAT

BOILED D!!!!
every year,
i make a sad mess out of what i think i should be eating,
while stone sober,
and alone,
on march 17th, ion keeping with holiday tradition
as i sit down to supper in my green everything,
but,
NOT THIS YEAR, dudes!
i made the boiled dinner,
but i freaked it off with some expert accoutrements,
and i activated all the best bits without any of the weak sauce.
word up.
two non-alcoholic brewskis,
extra hopsy, and molto gross,
poured over a pan of buttery peeled potatoes, carrots, onion, and celery,
with spicy horseradish gritty dijon-style mustard,
and bouillon added in to make it a broth.
non-alcoholics beers?
yeah, man.
i think that sour suckbomb flavor is essential to suffering through
the sad sloppy supper that marks the occasion,
but i'll be damned if i'm ever buying real beer.
guys,
i dunno if i've ever mentioned it, but:
it's ok not to drink.
try it sometime, you might find out you're more interesting,
and everyone you know is much less so, without the sauce.
anyway,
i fired in two wedges of crisp, crunchy, fresh cabbage,
and gave all of it a hard boil for as long as it took to soften all that stuff.
yup.
y'know what that gets you?
that's riiiiight-
it gets you that boil'd D.
bro,
it's not a culinary masterpiece,
even when you zap it with some parsley sprankles.
nope.
it's soft and beige and not that sexxxy.
which is precisely why i activated another 'nother headliner to the lienup.
YEAH!
i made myself some way more engrossing and engaging goodness,
still within the parameters of thematic irish foodstuffs,
only with textures i enjoyed exponentially more.
mmmhmmmm
check the mutha-'ucking teleport:

THAT'S A HASHBROWN-STYLE WAFFLE!!
shoutouts to that guy on munchies who made a thing like this.
i saw it last week, i think,
and tried to replicate it last night without referencing it as best i could.
neighbors,
one peeled new potato, shredded,
with one fat parsnip, prepared the same,
as well as a small carrot, similarly readied,
with strips of super-thinly shaved red onion,
salted, drained, and pressed out of all the extra wetness
that would otherwise ruin a perfectly crisp waffle.
and then,
you waffle-ize it!!
i'm serious.
get your waffle iron, which i'll assume you have,
if you're claiming to be any kind of really real one,
and make it as hot as it gets.
i sprayed the ever-lovin' sh!t out of it with non-stick cooking oil stuff,
and let my shredded concoction fry itself silly,
until it was brown and crisp on both sides.
it's that easy to make some new hottness happen for the big day.
....and it has none of the sad squish of that boil'd b!tchbaggery.
word.
corned sietan?
CORNED SEITAN!
yup.
pickle brine, butter,beer-broth, mustard, celery, caraway, and coriander seeds,
in a pan, with an unpressed and broth-waterlogged steaky seitan,
seared and soaked in all those flavors,
with GPOP, smoked paprika,
and plenty of thyme and black pepper, too.
a splash of cashew-garlic chee', thinned with soymilk,
crema-style on top, to offer a little smoooth and rich cool refreshment to the mix?
WU-TANG, friends.
that's the big action for sure,.
i almost could've sipped the pea tendrils....
....if i didn't understand the concept that
too much is the right amount.
they're green and sorta shamrocky, bruh.
that means they're mandatory.
i should've taken way more pictures of that big sexxxy waffle,
but,
as usual, i was home late, ravenous, raging, raving,
and really motivated to devour every last scrap of food in the house.
i've really got to rein in this shark-gluttony, guys.
it's become a driving force in my day-to-day plans.
i'm being serious.
there is more to life than cooking.
i mean,
i'd like to make a whole lot more art.
i've got plans on plans on plans,
and all my time is spent in front of the stove,
or hiking these hills with crabtree.
i need to better arrange my daytime sschedule.
or,
maybe even work a little less?
i have my doubts that that is a thing, though.
i think i'll just have to sleep even less.
there is only room for MORE.
no either's, no or's,
only AND.
&&&&&
that's what i'm shooting for at all times;
never quiet, never soft.....

RICK'S DAY!!!

soda bread.

yup.

irish soda bread.

what could be more opposite sourdough on the bread making spectrum?

....matzo, probably.

however,

soda bread is about as unlike the process of breadmaking i've been employing

as i think i can deal with...

and i'm likely not to get into it again until next year.

uh-huh.

here's the thing-

irish soda bread is a real F*ing bummer.

and that's why even when i DO make it, i don't.

not really, anyway.

uh-uh....

i gotta freak it off with a little bit of an upgrade, or i'm not interested.

seriously.

but,  

rules is rules,

and holiday celebration times are a thing around here...

so i s'pose activating some site-specific situationally-appropriate soda bread stuff

is a pretty good idea.

only,

i'm not making a big nubbly knobby boule, bro.

nope.

i did a thing,

and i'm much much happier tahat i took it in that direction.

yeah.

neighbors,

soda bread scones.

mmmmhmmmm.

check the teleport:

OH MAN THESE ARE PRETTY EFFING TASTY!!!!

black tea, raisins, cranberries, and toasted caraway seeds!

plus,

they aren't that dry and musty old soda situation,

these tasty tidbits are big, buttery, burly surprise bombs.

one bite, and kaPOW, you've got flavor all upside your whole face!.  

a breakfast treat that kinda reps it I.R.A in the eighties style.

ooooof.

but these scones, though!

wow.

they're great.

i think you might want to munch 'em up with even more butter,

or maybe even cashew cream,

or jam.

yeah. jam would be tight, too.

mainly, i do believe i made something worth a sh!t,

and that made me pretty pleased with my productivity from the jump-up.

mmmmmmm.

would you like to know more?

ok.

here's the blueprint, buddy.

enjoy it:

-

*

BLACK TEA SODA BREAD SCONES!!

-

1/2 cup strong brewed irish breakfast tea,

plus 1 tsp loose tea leaves, 

plus 1/2 cup soymilk,

plus 2 T lemon juice, set aside at room temperature.

.

preheat your oven to 410F.

.

in a large bowl,

combine 4 cups flour, sifted with 3 T cornstarch,

plus,

2 tsp baking soda;

3/4 tsp salt;

1 T baking pow-powder;

1/2 tsp cream of tartar;

1 emptied teabag's worth of dry irish breakfast tea; 

(i used trader joes' because it it without question the best one)

2 punches of sugar (~1/4 cup);

1 stick + 2 T vegan butterish (cold);

using a pastry cutter, 

combine all that into a crumbly flour,

stir in 1 cup raisins,

1/2 cup chopped dried cranberries,

and 1 1/2 tsp toasted caraway seeds-

add the tea/'milk mixture, and stir until just combined,

then begin a sequence of folds and turns-

halve it, turn it, etc, so the long way gets flipped over on itself,

over and over and over and over,

until it's all one thick, firm, layered dough.

...i tossed some raw sugar sprankles onto the outside,

which embedded in the surface as i hand-pressed the dough to a flat 1" thickness.

why?

because MORE awesomeness is a great idea,

and soda bread is pretty budget, so i wanted to enhance the chances of hottness

for this sconely version in any way i could.

heck,

i cut out 9 fat circles, at 3" each,

and i even basted each of those babies with melted butterish, too,

before freezing them for five minutes prior to baking.

....it makes a difference, man,

try it, you'll see...

bake them for 22 minutes,

and you'll have yourself something expert to eat.

that's no joke.

*

i wore green.

nobody else did.

i worked all day.

nobody else did.

i made treats.

nobody even ate them.

it's a strange land, 

this place where i live and work.

i love the woodsly goodness, i do,

but it's the constituents that mess it up.

who eve are these people?

non-participants and non-starters.

i need more competent, capable, concentrated, concerned, co-conspirators

to collaborate on my elaborate Folk Life formulas.

this insulated isolation chamber i call home  could use an influx

of externally-motivated intrinsically-rewarding warrior poetry

to recharge the batteries and arm the batteries 

of our literal and figurative energy reserves, armories and arsenal.

what i mean is-

it's so disappointing when you're explaining something to a roomful of blank stares.

or worse,

when you get the thunderous sound of silence when you unveil big news

to the people you wish could understand....

well,

i'm honest-

i just don't think they got it.

i need more experts to interact with, man,

i looking for connections with lightning-striking vikings,

with berserker barbarian battle bards,

with scalding scolding scribes and skalds.

i want to say more things and have to explain less things.

i want somebody to eat my scones with.

ha!

hard styles, 

and unrealistic expectations are what's on tap for today, i guess;

never quiet, never soft.....

GREENERY!!

i put the green to it.
huh?
the pizza, man.
c'mon.
pizza is always a welcome dinnertime experience at the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress,
and last night's was the guest of honor.
now,
i should begin by saying that i got home late for the too-many'th time in a row,
and while i appreciate that i try to fulfill and discharge all of my obligations
as they unfold and unravel and generally degenerate at the tattoo studio,
that lost hour really seems to compound the chaos of my homecoming every time.
yup.
crabtree lacks the ability to comprehend time like we do,
so when dinner and dog-dad are home late,
all he knows is HUNGER and BOREDOM....
and that means he is a hellacious and atrocious kinetic battering ram of appetite
and affection-seeking missile-guided headlong headstrong head-and-hucklebutts.
uh-huh.
that's no joke.
so,
pizza is the only way to go.
what?
what do YOU mean, what do i mean?
look, man,
it makes perfect sense-
the oven takes forever to preheat to 490F,
and the dough likes to reach room temp for ultimate stretch,
so, that means i'm moving forward without wasting time watching the oven.
time, which, in turn, can be devoted to my dear sweet battle-beastly boy.
....it's called a plan, neighbors.
and i have one for late nights that rewards everybody.
pizza.
pizza.
pizza.
PIZZA!
PIZZA!
teleport:

PEE-EYE-ZEE-ZEE-AYY!!
broth-braised broccoli is so choice.
asparagus is always welcome.
caramelized onions and fried garlic sprankles are mandatory.
spring onions spread across the top give it a subtle spring-heeled feel,
despite the feet of snow the woodsly goodness is buried beneath.
and the fennel?
well, shaved fennel makes my whole mouth tingle.
mmmmmmm.
plus, those fronds look molto sexxxy on top.
kids,
cashew garlic underchee', daiya mozzarella, and crushed tomatoes
are how pizza gets going up here,
however, the toppings this time around were the TRUTH.
team green won by a landslide last night,
and pizza-town rented out my whole face,
and threw a F* of a party in my mouth!
***********
today, tho.
today is one of those days.
no.
not even in any of the conventionally disappointing ways.
more like,
i realy effing hate drunk people,
and i especially disdain and deride and despise the celebration of inebriation
however much it is thinly veiled as cultural pride,
which, in turn, seems like such a gigantic bummer-
when the main ingredients of this co-opted melting-pot-nationalism
are just alcoholism and bad boiled food, maybe don't be so psyched....
i'm just sayin'.
today is one of those days.
we all know it, and some of you love it-
it's st. patrick's day.
UGH.
yes.
i'll be wearing green, anyway...
uh-huh.
even on holidays i can't get that excited over,
i've got an intrinsic holiday spirit that can't be quelled.
i mean it.
i am zero percent irish. as i'm not from ireland.
and everybody born in boston,
drunken and losing their minds as i type?
also not irish.
however,
i contain the same nonexistent amount of genetic irish lineage, too.
which is to say,
i am specifically and exactly just as irish as santo pasquale was.
awwwwwww.
and also,
i don't want a pinch,
nor do i want a kiss,
and if my eyes are smiling, there must be something wrong.
but,
i have a lot of green gear, and i'm down to put it on.
why?
i DON'T KNOW.
i'm just a walking contradiction, garbed in site-specific seasonally-appropriate attire.
i do that.
maybe just so i can pointedly participate in the parts of the thing that don't require
me to consume alcohol and salty boiled beef.
word up.
and for the record,
even if you're psyched on potato famines and rutabaga jack o'lanterns
and shillelaghs and leprechauns and red branch knights;
even if you've got a  celtic cross tattoo with the word family somewhere;
even if you wear a claddagh ring;
even if somehow you still like U2 and the dropkick murphys;
even if boondock saints is your favorite movie,
and so on and so forth-
even if any and/or all of that is your favorite stuff in the whole wide world,
even then,
it's okay not to drink.
in fact,
it most likely makes you a lot more interesting.
shoutouts to green shirts and bagpipes, though.
you're still cool;
never mcquiet, never o'soft.....

BLOOBERS

blueberries have got a whole holy heck of a lot of goodness in them.
we've discussed this.
it's science, and nutrition, and taste,
all cooperating inside those blue-skinned, purple-staining, spherical bombs
of health and good fortune....
mmmmmm.
so, how can we harness that hottness,
and somehow also make it an activated fancy-pantsy bakery treat?
that's easy.
y'us gotta put the chocolate to it.
yeah!
that's real, guys.
a little chocolate is just what a serious set of bloobs wants to hang out with.
i mean it.
and when it's cake time,
but it's also blueberry time,
and it's chocolate o'clock on the sundial, too?
we've got to do what needs doing, dudes,
and we're gonna do just that...
blueberry muffins made into a big ol' cake,
packed with regular wild bloobs,
chocolate-F*ing-covered candy bloobs,
and enhanced with MORE chocolate and MORE  bloobs????
neighbors,
maybe just check the teleport:

BLOOOOOOOOOOOOBS!!!!
hahahahaha.
you guys want a little free 'n' friendly advice from your uncle albie?
word.
here it is:
if you have to have cake in your life,
let it be some sexxxy cake.
every aspect of that sort of makery-bakery decision
will improve your whole entire situation.
are you tired, unhappy, stressed, dumb, lazy, or whatever?
it's probably because you're eating substandard cakes.
i'm pretty sure that's a proven thing.
you want a better life, bro?
maybe you should start choosing sexxxier cake.
i'm not the boss of you, buddy-
i'm just sayin',
the cake thing is a good start towards elevated life goals.
-
oh man!
good cake is it's own reward,
but i gotta tell you-
i love a good crumbly, soft, thick cake.
basically,
anything that's got that muffiny texture is an A+,
and all it takes to deepen the density,
and maximize the moisture is NOT whisking and whipping it,
just mixing and stirring, instead.
i can do that.
....and i did.
if that's something you think you'd like to do,
here's the step-by-step how-to,
y'know,
so you can concoct your very own whenever you're ready.
(i think you're ready)
-
*
1 cup brown sugar;
1/2 tsp salt;
1 stick (8T) vegan butters;
1 tsp vanilla;
^ creamed together, just like almost everything we ever make,
and combined with
3/4 cup non-dairy yogurt (blueberry would be awesome in this instance);
2 1/2 cups flour;
1/4 cup tapioca starch;
2 tsp bakey powder;
1 tsp bakey soda;
1 cup wild frozen bloobs, defrosted, with their juice collected;
yup.
i reserved 1/4 cup of blueberry juice,
extracted over low heat from formerly frozen,
forcibly thawed berries.
-
plus,
6 oz dark chocolate covered bloobs;
1/4 cup chocolate chips (i didn't put those in mine, but i should've);
1 cup non-dairy milk...
stir it all up,
and spread it in a greased and floured cake pan.
i used a big 10" round jaun,
and it make an awesome flat muffinesque tableau for my eyes to devour
before i ever even decorated it.
but first,
we bake it-
360F for 40 or so minutes, until it's all set-up and won't sink in the center,
and then we let it cool, while we play it cool,
and maybe prepare some stuff for ourselves......
-
i put that powdered sugary snow dust all over the top,
and i a whole bunch of that drizzled that expressionist icing,
made from vanilla, blueberry juice, and powdered sugar,
(see?)
chocolate blueberry frosting swirls completed the look.
that's mashed and strained bloobs,
with butter, and blueberry juice,
and powdered sugar and cocoa and soymilk.
again, i should probably measure these things.....
but i don't.
here's what i know in regards to general measurements:
too much is the right amount.
DASIT.
go make a sexxy cake, and get that new life of yours started today;
never quiet, never soft.....

IDES WARINESS!!!

company.
companionship.
the sharing of bread.
togetherness, in a group, with people i like, even.
yep.
that's real.
while i was over here saying bye bye to marzo italiano,
the ides were all but rewarding me for abandoning that ship!!
uh-huh.
dudes,
i had some folks over for dinner,
and it was good.
i mean,
the food was tremendously satisfying,
but,
having people over to eat it with me was pretty effin' good, too.
for real-
my very worthy, very earnest, and excellent beau is in town for a bit,
so you KNOW i needed to have him over for family dinner.
and he brought his friend meaghan,
who i believe uses all the letters you can to spell her name,
and she brought me a PLANT!
mmmhmmm.
a wandering jew.
shoutouts to botanical insensitivity in nomenclature.
a plant, kids.
i love that.
and,  of course,
my man carlos was also in attendance,
since he has a standing appointment with the food
of the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress on wednesdays, anyway....
what do we eat,
when we all get together?
sandwiches, man.
obvi.
a superlative sarnie is the sort of smashmaster superiority
that only ever serves to accentuate and elevate friendships.
they're so expert,
and they've got all the important elements, too.
salty, sweet, smooth, crunchy, bitter, spicy, etc. etc. so on and so forth,
yeah yeah yeah..........YEAH!
and what sandwiches sits above the rest?
which 'guini gets the girl in the end?
which sammitch spikes it in the endzone?
man, the answer is OBvious.
it's gotta be the BANH MI!
guys,
we did the thing, and we did it so hard!
check the bang-bang-bang-me-type teleport:

BANH MI BANH MAXIMUM!!!!!!
how soft are those buns?!?!
the softest, and the squishiest, but still,
they've got all the flavor poppin' off,
and that's before being buttered and toasted!
word up.
i still swear by the double-yeast technique.
here's my banh recipe, bro-
-
*
BANH BREAD! (bread bread)
3 cups of flour;
2 tsp salt;
4 tsp olive oil;
2 1/2 tsp regular-actin' commercial yeast;
1 tsp sugar.
+
1 cup warm water + 1/4 cup non-dairy milk,
with 1 tsp sugar, and 2 tsp bread machine yeast,
allowed to bloom for 5-10 minutes....
...i'll say it one more time-
if you're a real one, you'll get yourself a stand mixer.
knead that dough for a good long while,
like, 8-9 minutes of brutal pounding *ahem*
and let it bulk for thirty.
punch it down, cold proof it for another hour or two,
until it's good and big,
divide it into quartrers,
shape those into long loaves,
and olive oil the tops for that extra golden sexxy magic coloration in the oven.
which will now begin preheating to 410F,
while your shaped loaves continue to rise on the counter....
score them with a super sharp lame of serrated blade,
so that they are less likely to burst as steam escapes their soft and succulent crumb,
while they're being activated for 15-18 minutes.....
-
^the bread needs all that oil, or it sucks.
i learned that from making focaccia.
it's worth it, too,
because crusty bread, or dense bread, or dry bread
would all absolutely diminish this meal by an appreciable margin.
so,
the homemade bread scene was taken care of.
that's good.
buttered, toasted, and turned up another notch,
with vegenaise spread on one side,
and sriracha squeezed out on the other,
they were all set aside to wait while the fillings were fleshed out.
.....and the FILLINGS, folks.
that's what the F* was gucci last night, for realsies.
*
soy-and smoke-seared butter-and-oil fried seitan steaks
with sriracha flakes, and black pepper?
c'mon.
crisped up on the outside, still soft and moist within,
with that tamari amino sorcery stirred with a few droplets of liquid smokiness,
and the dusts of onion, garlic, and hot peppers to catalyze the flavor!
mmmmmm.
filleted out and laid out, over slab-style dill-pickled cukes,
and shaved red onion rings.
WOW.
that'd be enough, if we were poor and lame and lazy.....
but we're NOT, and it wasn't and we continued apace.
*
avocado!
bros,
instead of pate',
which is horrible and horrifying,
and absolutely a d!ck move to pull on a goose or anyone else,
we used avocado slices!
smooth, fatty, dreamy creaminess, without being an A*-hole?
expert.
*
tofu?
TOFU!
ummm, hold on.......TOFU!!
yeah!

fried tofu is the truth.
anyone who says otherwise is a liar.
that's right.
and when it's coated in crushed coconut, and cracked black pepper,
and a little of that pink salt, too?!?!
c'mon, man.
if you can't hang out, it's because you're no good,
the skins get so crunchy,
but the squish of the exxxtra-firm 'fu within stays so nice!
damn, i love tofu.
WOULD YOU JUST TAKE ANOTHER LOOK AT THIS BUSINESS?!!

BANH BANH BANH!!!!
quick pickled radishes and carrots have all the sharp tangy terrificness,
and lose none of their important crunch,
when they marinate in a salty, sweet, vinegar bath all day.
they do get a little aromatic, tho, and in the most semi-flatulent way.
it's no big deal, that leaves when you drain 'em,
but it's possibly disconcerting to the novice when you unlid those bad boys.
ha!
.....is that it?
nope.
no way. what are you?
some kind of a diapery doo-doo baby?
rules is rules,
and they clearly state that too much is the right amount!
that's a thing.
but,
there are also pea tendrils on that jaun,
AND fresh, but holy-hot-surprisingly-spicy jalapeno slices.
and also,
just to put that coolwater refreshment on top,
cilantro sprig sprankles!
that's stacks on stacks on stacks on stacks on stacks!!!
why?
because expert recognize expert, son;
and we all tuned up our sandwiches like it was the first meal we'd had
after an age of drought and famine.
i'm just sayin',
it got realllllly quiet for those first few bites.
-
and there were even microgreens!
guys,
a little sploosh of those heavily-nutrient-dense barely-growns
was s'kyoooooot!
*
......and that SLAW!!!!!
y'gotta have a proper side of sexxiness, man.
red cabbage, green cabbage, carrots, parsley, scallions, cilantro,
lime zest, lime juice, pink salt, black pepper, and a splat of vegenaise.
i liked it.
i think they liked it.
i definitely liked having them over.
...and we even had two desserts!
that's how you take it to eleven.
***********
MORE awesomeness,
MORE food,
MORE time spanned with people worth being near.
i am grateful for the people who actively participate.
they matter twice as much as spectators.
and the best part?
crabtree crashed out SO hard after they left,
he likes having company even more than i do.
other people think he's amusing,
because they only get small doses of his antics.
whatever, man.
he slept like a boulder, and so did i.
-
i hurt my back so badly that i've been hobbling around all morning,
and with a wild whipping wind barreling into the woodsly goodness,
and the frosty temperatures turning anything that melted yesterday into ice,
i have to say-
not super excited to walk that little shark-bullet-croco'gator battle beast today.
however,
even when it's gonna be the worst,
it still has to happen.
...and it all really is.
the memory of that meal,
and the people who shared it,
is going to stick with me for some time.
i count myself lucky for the shared experience,
and i sincerely hope they left better off for the time invested;
never quiet, never soft.....

BRACIOLETTE!!!

wrapped stuffed rolls of righteous awesome?

yes, please.

y'ever head of a braciole?

they used to go in the sauce pot, back in the olden days,

when my ma would make the meat sauce.

it's been a minute since i effed with that syuff,

but i always remember it was a bigger deal when she

put them in there, as opposed to other dead body parts.

here's the thing-

where i'm from, 

with the heavy anglicized sicilian dialect of bastardized italian

that dominates the tongues and lips of southern connecticut,

that word is pronounced brah-zh-y'all.

you can call it what you like, neighbors,

i'm calling it a veganized success!

normally it's a cutlet, rolled around a filling, braised, and seared, 

and sauteed in some sort of sauce......

and it's tied up with string, 

or in the case of some of the smaller ones, 

skewered together with a wooded pick.

i can't say i ever ate one, even if it was infusing the sauce of my childhood,

but i ca say that i've eaten the heck out of a a whole bunch of them

in new seitan roulade format!!!

dudes,

check the teleport:

BRACIOLETTE!!

marzo italiano keeps me deep in the tomato-based trenches.

that's a seitan steak, un-pressed, and sliced thin, 

rolled up and around a centerline of fresh chopped fennel stalk,

and caramelized shallots,

and chopped rosemary,

and molto black pepper,

AND fried garlic sprankles.

tied off with pastry twine,

seared a bit on the sides in a hot oiled pan,

and simmered in a soupy stew of chunky tomatoes and stuff.

yup.

one cup of seitan broth, poured over browned tomato chunks,

with a few spoonfuls of minced shallot and crushed garlic,

with salt and pepper and a tablespoon of tomato paste.

it all marries together, and becomes a pretty wild sauce,

while it seeps into the seitan like they were made to meld together.

when it gets thick, and the whole house smells smazing,

they're ready to eat.

fresh parsley always adds that little something special,

so i had to add it.

and the fennel fronds?

that's just to show off.

but, like, how good were they?

well, 

every single ingredient is delicious, 

so it seems like it'd be weird if the sum total wasn't.

and added up, that's all the stuff you want to eat,

so goodness knows that goodness was mandatory...

they were expert, obvi.

.....

and that roasted potatoes in olive oil,

with himalayan pink crystals of salty meditation?

with that blanched broccoli rabe??

neighbors,

THAT was a whole bunch of awesome all by itself.

criusp chips of 'tato, 

bittersweet green leafy nutrients,

a sprig or two of basil, to freshen it up.......

i almost get upset when simplicity is so tasty.

i mean,

too much is the right amount, 

but when a little goes such a long way, it can't be denied,

unless you're a liarmouth.

and that's not our style, now is it?

nope.

truth tellers can never stop,

it's not a component of our infinite nature.

broccoli rabe and potatoes, tho-

that's a major component of being delicious 

*

the ides of march.

yup.

today is the day.

and that's not all it is.

today,

i give the ol' marzo italiano a bit of the julius caeser treatment.

yup.

sorry about the stabs, bro,

but i'm thinking about eating something else now.

in fact,

that was always the plan.

on the ones,

nobody wants marinara on st. patrick's day, anyway.

what's on the menu?

i dunno!

that's actually the best part!

it's all really happening, 

but the specifics aren't set in stone!

what-what-say what-say what?

ANYthing can happen;

never quiet, never soft.....

PIZZA PARTYGOER!

seared butternut squash.

that's right.

blackened a bit on the sides,

with a bit of onion caramelized alongside it,

braised and shaken, back and forth, in a little seitan broth.

uh-huh.

turns out, 

i really like those orange-fleshed jauns a whole bunch.

mmmm.

i took it, and three BIG crimini mushrooms,

and pulsed them into pesto in the food processor, 

with some fresh thyme,

salt, olive oil, and black pepper.

the heat from the squash wilted the mushrooms,

and i took the whole tub of that unfortunately 

browner-than-i'd-have-liked mashed moosh,

and spread it like thick sauce on a pizza pie.

WORD.

the semi-semolina semi-sourdough dopeness delivered all the big flavor once again,

and while i don't hate a conventional crust,

and i can appreciate the crackery crack of a pure sourdough jaun,

the combination of both is just too much hottness not to get the nod

for best pizza crust in the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress repertoire.

that's no joke,

and with those butternutty blops on it?

molto expert, and mucho deliciousness.

ok.

here we go- 

check the teleport, 

and decide for yourself if i'm telling the truth, or just talking sh!t:

PEE EYE ZEE ZEE AYY!!

the crust is tight.

the squash pesto is tight.

the daiya chee? it's alright.

the caramelized onion, though?

dudes, why are those always so TIGHT?!

hahahaha.

c'mon.

with sweet miniature bell pepper rings,

and sauteed green beans,

and smoky homemade seitan crumbles 

(minced, and stir fried with soy sauce, liquid smoke, GPOP, 

and smoked paprika, with agave and oil and a little bit of cayenne pepper)

and the last of those little heirloom tomatoes, to keep it juicy.

guys,

good pizza is mandatory in this household.

my hot-A* oven also served to take the chill out of the awful air

that preceded the miserable blizzard that wrecked yesterday so hard.

yuck.

thanks, oven, for making pizza, and making my house happier.

nice job.

fried garlic sprankles made their cameo, too.

rules is rules,

and a 'za without those little glitter gitters isn't welcome here.

a little chopped parsley to freshen it up,

and i was definitely winning at pizza for the evening.

neighbors, i LOVE pizza.

the most.

as in- the mostie-mostest.

in fact, 

there may be pizza on the bang-bang schedule later today, too.

that's such a good idea.

***********

yesterday was a mess.

snow heaps and drifts,

zero visibility.

treacherous roads.

the works.

but, how about today?

well, today,

things are lookin' up.

except, i'm only half as mobile as i was when it sucked outside.

yup.

guess who hurt their back?

ugh.

isn't that just like some old guy sh!t to do?

i deserved it, sort of....

shoveling angrily, flinging sow high and wide,

while also snapping the dog's leash, angrily, 

as crabtree and the wind worked in concert to disconcert 

and undermine my calm, methodical snow-removal mission.

i got furious, and i got hurt.

damn it. that's just what i deserved, though, really.

i mean, right?

you got a job to do, you do it-

freaking out isn't going to make it go any quicker, or progress any better.

that's how real life should work, man-

you get what you get, and you don't get upset.

words to live by, but words i largely ignore,

in this instance to the detriment of my ancient spinal column.

ha!

moving around feels less amazing than i'd like,

but,

i'll take a lesson from yesterday,

and do what i've to do, without losing my mind about the hard parts.

it's all really happening,

and besides,

today is the day.

no, really.

the ides.

the turning point.

the midway mark.

the works.

it's pretty miuch a wary, scary day if you're the emperor,

but if you've got no new clothes, no new groove, 

and no news that's good news,

you're most likely going to be ok.

i'll let you know how it goes, bros;

never quiet, never soft.....

Pi DAY!!!!

why,
yes,
i'd LOVE some pie!!!!
that's the only answer i acknowledge when i think to myself:
would i like some pie, by any chance?
pie is dope.
pie is great.
and on 3.14,
which is to say, today,
it's pretty much mandatory that we have PI(E)!!!
if you didn't know about that,
likely because you're a luddite
living in a deep dark electricity and internet-deprived cave,
well,
now you've been informed of the clever numberwang
that is the date, and also the PI for your eye,
made out of PIE!
3.14?
get it?
Pi?
PIE!
yeah!
i got up early, and got into some fruity activation for everybody.
if pie is good,
then MORE pie is better.
that's a fact.
so,
because today is the day,
and site-specific new hottness is sort of my thing,
i baked not one,
but TWO pies.
yup.
that's how you doo-doo that celebratory sh!t.
and lord knows i'm all about that life.
ok.
so without any more of this preamble,
i'd like it very much if you would check the teleport:

KABOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!
dudes,
that's a raspberry blueberry lemon-zested black-bottomed pie!!!
and that's F*ing expert.
my preferred pie dough was displayed to great effect, i think.
would you like to make some?
ok.
do this:
-
* pastry dough!
-
2 1/4 cups flour;
dash of salt;
punch of sugar;
1 tsp vanilla extract;
11 T vegan butterish;
3-4 T vegan creamchee';
food processed with dash after dash of nondairy milk
until it barley holds together as crumbly mass.
press it into a disc, wrap it in plastic, and refirgerate it for at least an hour,
but longer is really the smarter play.
trust me.
...i use a lot of it.
-
ok.
also,
there's very simple black bottomed blops on the base of the piecrust.
melted chocolaty chips thinned-out with a splash of soymilk, to smooth it out a bit.
that's all there is to it.
so dope,
but, like, also super easy.
so much so that anybody, and by that i mean even you and i, can make it happen.
word.
-
and that fruity filling?
12 oz of frozen raspberries,
and a full 16 oz of frozen wild blueberries,
warmed up with a tsp of lemon extract,
a tsp of vanilla,
1/2 cup of powdered sugar,
a few T of agave, just because,
and a slurry of 3 T cornstarch once the juices began to flow.
yuuuuuuuup.
that's that good-good.
but that was just phase one.
uh-huh.
too much is the right amount, man,
and the other one was everybody else's favorite.
check it out:

WORDIMUS PRIME!
a full pound of frozen strawberries,
4 small apples, peeled, cored, and chopped,
cinnamon,
and lots of ginger.
that's the stuff you're gonna want, buddy,
i mean it.
simmered slowly until soft,.
and tossed with a heavy handful of quick oats to soak up all the exxxtra sauce,
y'know,
so the pastry wouldn't get soggy....and there's the obligatory cinnamon swirls,
plus a sh!tload of snowflakes.
both pies were baked at 415F for twenty five minutes apiece,
until golden and majestic and totally set-up and special in all the ways that matter.
expert is as expert does, dudes,
and experts know to keep it real,
and make it pretty while they're at it...
big ups to that cinnamon awesomeness, friends.
and a hearty no-five to the snow.
-
*
oh, yeah.
today we got well over a foot of fresh miserable late winter powder,
in an attempt by ma nature to really eff up our day.
shoutouts to spring break kids who came home for the week.
womp womp.
so, it's a snow day,
and it's a tough one at that.
anything can hapen on a snow day,
but only the sh!ttiest stuff went on,
starting from the fall of the first flake in the early hours of the morning.
ew.
an abominable blizzard of winter wizardry was whizzing
around our heads all damned day, and i still went to work,
because that's what i DO.
...and was the studio busy?
you'd better believe it, bro.
it's income tax return time, and the weirdies, the dirties,
and the ugghs all manage to stay warm with that loot burning holes in their pockets.
everybody came through, and i was busy all damned day,
while the skies dropped terrible tonnages of frozen F*ery on down our heads.
yucky.
so, i'm buried under all the weather,
just in time to spend my one day off digging out from below...
lame.
however,
i ate enough pie to keep me motivated to get sweaty for long enough
to melt off some of that flaky pastry piggishness.
uh-huh.
i am a glutton for good things,
and i took that pie apart, slice by slice by slice.
i started with two pies,
and by day's end, less than one half remained.
that's how it's done, folks.
anything else is lazy work for lazy people.
MORE PIE.
that's the rule.
don't forget it.
oh,
and happy day, too;
never quiet, never soft.....

CACCIATORE!!!

i made seitan especially for this dish, duders.
that's real.
what kind of marzo italiano would it be without cacciatore??
i mean, seriously.
i'm actually surprised i didn't think of it sooner.
here's the thing-
cacciatore is hunter's stew.
and i'm no hunter, homies.
however,
i AM into big, rich, thickness.
so, with the addition of homemade hand-torn hunks and slabs
of GPOP and olive oil seared seitan,
i had a harmless helping of that hot fire on hand!!
mmmmmmm.
there's no wrong way to make it, apparently,
and since it's a customized collection of vegetables and ideas,
you can be sure that mine's as authentic as anybody else's.
for sure.
so,
let's have a look-see, shall we?
teleport:

CACCIATORE IS PRETTY EFFIN' DOPE!!!
one onion, roughly chopped lengthwise-
plus,
one each of sliced red and orange sweet bell peppers;
and half an italian hot pepper (the long light greenish one);
you're gonna need a clove of crushed garlic,
and a clove of sliced garlic,
and a whole lot of olive oil.
saute that stuff until it gets a little browned,
and add in one stalk, celery-style of fennel.
that's the big action, you'd better believe.
now deglaze the pan with 4 T red wine vinegar-
add in 14 oz. hand-crushed stewed tomatoes and juice,
a big squeeze of lemon juice,
rosemary, oregano, basil, parsley, and thyme,
black pepper, a big pinch of salt,
and a few tablespoons of tomato paste, too.
you'll notice that it smells so good you want to do a little dance.
go ahead.
it takes a little minute to cook, anyway...
a cup of reserved seitan broth goes a long way here.
the juices will cook down, but the flavors will lock in,
and that's expert as heck.
in the same pan i seared my seitan in,
i also browned a whole buttonload of crimini mushrooms, too.
if you char 'em up a little first, they taste a billion times better in the broth.
fact.
so, do that.
i also added arugula and kale and spinach and sprig onion stalks to mine.
y'ever have baby leaves, and notice that they HATE staying nice for very long?
that's a real struggle up here in the woodsly goodness,
so i've got to use them up,
or it's like i was wasting them on purpose.
....which is just plain ol' stoopid.
so don't be like that.
from there,
you're just gonna wanna put it all together,
and let it bubble away on low heat for as long as it takes to cook farro.
yup.
(it's like, twenty minutes, man)
why farro?
because it's like rice and like pasta,
but with more nutrients and sh!t than orzo.
yup.
follow directions, and get yourself as much or as little of that as you'd like,
i served it with more green onion, fresh basil buds,
and a few baby leaves for added sexxxiness.
how was it?
i ate every last little bit all by myself in record time.
and moreover, i enjoyed every bite.
the blackened exteriors of the seitan were just what the sauce-soaked insides
needed to really upgrade the texture and flavor to eleven, man.
i realllllllly get excited about food.
you know that.
i get excited about other stuff, too,
but i get to EAT the food,
and i get to MAKE it exactly how i want it.
i told you that already,
but i'll repeat myself as often as the thought occurs to me.
for realsies.
over and over, each successive meal,
as my big paisano-goombah genes get charged up with
all of this tomato-based energy,
i can feel the lupe de luna in my blood really getting activated.
and i'm getting so psyched,
and as my memory stretches back to boyhood,
when family dinner was more than just me and crabtree.
when my grandmother used to eat whole families of chickens,
or my uncle ed would totally get weird
with three kinds of animal fats in one dish-
i'm reminded that the good ol' days were pretty inconsiderate of
the lives of other things.
and that while i may be solo in my kitchen,
i'm for sh!t-sure more connected to the bigger picture
than all my people are to each other at the dinner table,
sitting over a mealtime mortuary with little to no regard
for anything beyond their tastebuds.
i'll choose eating alone over eating animals every single time.
that's as preachy as i'm liable to get,
but i mean that sh!t from the bottom of my heart an' that;
never quiet, never soft.....

HAMANTASCHEN!!!!!

purim!
it's a holiday .
and it's when some stuff happens.
...not for me, really.
i mean,
i'm 0% jewish,
and i'm -10% religious,
but,
i AM 200% pro-cookie,
so, sometimes,
like now, for example,
circumstances coincide,
and a site-specific seasonally appropriate convergence occurs.
that's when you get into the zone, neighbors.
the cookie zone.
and the cookies have got to be the ones that are for the thing.
that's a thing.
and since purim is also a thing,
AND it has cookies that belong with it?
what the heck else would i even make, man?
i'm sayin'!
who do you think i am?
some sort of an A*-hole?
no way.
therefore,
shoutouts to that lost hour of daylight savings,
and shoutouts to jewish feasts,
and shoutouts to everybody but your boy haman.
yeah.
that dude was very uncool.
although,
how many bad guys get cookies named after them?
yep.
that's what's up, neighbors.
HAMANTASCHEN!!
triangle treats from the long lost past!
check the teleport:

THAT'S THAT MITZVAH SH!T!!!
hahaha.
dudes,
almost a quarter of these little jerks took a dive in the first round.
mmhmm.
i was just freestylin' some ingredients,
and hoping for positive results.
i'll say i got halfway there-
the flavor was amazing.
that's for real.
the integrity of the dough, however?
....not so much.
i will say there's half a blood orange's zest in there,
and the juice, too.
as well as almond meal, flour, salt, butters,
orange extract, almond extract, AND vanilla extract.
that's right.
too much is the right amount.
or in this instance, almost spot on.
there's a cup and a half of all purpose white flour,
the superfine almond meal weighed in at 1/2 cup,
and about a half a cup of raw sugar took it's turn in the mixer, too.
really, the orange almond flavor was damned good,
but a true recipe seems dumb, since the results were mixed.
sorry, guys.
here's the thing-
i had to re-pinch these lava bombs halfway through the baking time,
as the filling and the butter worked together to wilt the shapes into deformed sad circles.
yuck.
boiling preserves will do you a mischief, friends.
that's no joke.
and that jammie-jammin' jam jauns was on point, up until the pastry peeled away.
these are just circles, squeezed at the corners to make triangles,
around a big scoop of that fruity goo.
and you KNOW i didn't bring a weak preserve game to the table.
no way.
rules is rules.
i had apricot, black currant, raspberry, AND strawberry,
and then,
because i'd heard of there being poppy seed hamantash,
but i didn't really want that much seediness in my sweets....
i called an audible on the fly,
and added them in,
just in a more ornamental capacity-
yup.
i spritzed the filling with poppin' poppy seed sprankles!!
expert.
that way, i get all the good ideas, but only ruined the main one.
awwwwww.
that's just how it goes sometimes.
of course,
the pinchy hot oven midpoint repair work did he trick for the ones you see pictures.
it wasn't a total loss.
i would've like more of a complete victory,
but i saved far more than half of them, so i'll take it for  what it's worth,
which is about 75% of the projected outcome.
ha.
***********
i don't want to jinx anything,
but,
i am going to tentatively report that the F*ing bastard wind
seems to have abated!
it's still frustratingly cold, especially for mid march,
but without the big bad huffing and puffing,
the lunar swell-up, the frigid depths of these record low-lows,
and the wolfen call of the wild are all so much more bearable.
wind is not invited, man.
not ever.
our walk will be so much better without those blasts and barrages of angry air.
we'll have to hurry though.
the time travel has upset the delicate calibration of my light-sensitive internal clock.
 and there's so much work to be done,
and there's so many tattoos to do,
and in-between the chores and the bores and the dog-tending-
i've still been obsessing about italian food,
i swear my sauce-count is so high that my blood
is almost half marinara at this point.
that's a thing.
not much longer now,
and i can activate something totally different.
i could stop today if i wanted to.
(that's what they all say)
but that's not the goal i set for myself,
and if i say i'm doing two hard weeks of italy in my mouth,
then i'll be damned if it isn't fourteen times that i turn up a pot of sauce.
WORD.
and also, you gotta remember pi(e) day.
that's tomorrow.
don't forget.
and don't play the wall, either.
make a pie, bake a pie....
because,
and this is a great big YES:
we'd all LOVE some pie;
never quiet, never soft.....