viva liberte!

duders,
i'll share a little tidbit of truth with y'all.
ready?
ok.
i've never had a cuban sandwich.
really.
i mean,
i've been for vegan for so flippin' long,
i never even had the chance to indulge myself
in one of those greasy, messy, hot-pressed bombs.
it's cool.
from what i understand,
they're only expert because they're totally a big ol'
pan-fried mess of indulgent 'sgustingness.
y'know?
like,
too much is the right amount,
but in all the worst ways.
and yeah, fine, i'll admit it-
i'm into that.
i'm so into it, actually,
that i got the idea into my head that i needed one.
i'm serious.
and luckily,
my numero uno heterolifemate,
the cucch, surprised us with a popover.
now,
if ever there was a time
when a sandwich explosion was set up to go off,
it's gotta at a time when the activation society of
worthy hamden warrior poets are having a reunion.
a vegan duo of herculean talents both under the roof of
the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress?
yep.
and beau with his burly appetite for self-destruction was here too??
c'mon.
that's a lot of expertism in one spot, neighbors.
we got some ideas,
and some ingredients,
and some motivation...
...and then this happened:

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!
c'mon.
i'm just sayin'.....C'MON!
veggie ham?
yes.
vegan non-specific greyish-beige simulated pulled pork?
ummm, yes.
we took a few generous leaps of faith with our faux meats.
we doo-doo that imagination-fueled approximation-type sh!t.
and stackers, kids.
you those slabs of pickle you like so much?
we GOT they.
daiya(rrhea) fake chee'?
obvi.
and what about the mustardy sauce?
mmhmmm.
we got especially expert,
with vegenaise, nootch, g.p.o.p., dry ground mustard seed,
turmeric, and horseradish dijon all mixed and melded together.
that's the secret to full-blown hottness.
no jokes.
portuguese rolls bore the brunt of our buttered pan assault.
and,
i even heated up a cast-iron press on a separate burner,
until it was super-ready to squish 'em flat.
just check the teleport:

we get it IN, guys.
for the win.
and according to beau,
who has had the authentic grease-blasted dead-pig smorgasbord,
they tasted pretty damned near to the real deal.
i may or not be both flattered and grossed out.
either way,
we ate a LOT.
too much of too much is the precise dose for manly shark gluttony.
that's it.
*
a lazy sunday it wasn't.
not even kinda.
hard styles;
heavy-handed tattoo action;
big fat lunchtimes;
rednecks;
renovations;
gluttony;
cigars;
all of it, all really happening,
with a healthy helping of helping hands.
me and my duders got busy,
and we got heavy,
and we did too much of all it,
and it was just right.
i am grateful for the time i have been given;
never quiet, never soft.....