northern dirty comfort cookin'.

gravy, neighbors.
that's what's up.
because homemade gravy is good for you like nutrients an' that.
for realsies.
and i know what's good for us,
and i'm gonna give it to you in big greasy gouts.
whoa!
that's a thing.
sometimes,
fat chunky comfort and calamitous carbohydrates are all you want.
yesterday was one of those days, duders.
and when it's time for comfort in my bellyhole,
that means unrest and discomfort in my kitchen.
yep.
three burners simmering and stewing and sauteing for hours,
and dough chillin' in the refrigerator to avoid getting too soft on the counter,
and pots bubbling over and caramelization browning all sorts of beige stuff
into darker shades of sexy vegan hottness.....
all of it, all at once, all afternoon.
that's how i doo-doo that freaky sh!t.
and what did i have to show for it?
check the teleport:

so much heavy duty dopeness in F*ing full effect.
expert.
bacon garlic'd gravy greens?!
yup.
vegan roast simmered in a slurry of bacony broth until it got all-the-way activated,
added into some oil-seared garlic, and steamed alongside those collard jauns.
...and then you give it the gravy.
and what's up with mushroom pie?!
ummmm,
it's delicious. that's what's up.
two pounds of sliced button babies,
fried up with onions,
and nootch, and g.p.o.p., and sage, and thyme, and rosemary, and mustard powder,
and salt, pepper, red wine vinegar, and olive oil,
patty-caked into a tart pan lined with cream-chee' puff pastry dough.
c'mon.
that's some big burly buttoncap business for grown men to handle roughly.
right?
yeah.
and right before it gets baked?
gravy,
and a sprankle of parsley for appearances' sake.
but, friends, on the ones, though-
those mini shepherd jammers over there?
uh-huh.
that's the big action from the oven area, for certain.
baby-sized pie pans with puff pastry,
a punch of kale and spinach and chard-oh my!
and then a chunky chubby chutney of finely minced and firmly seasoned
onions and garlic and carrots and celery and parsley and oil.
that's the base coat we're building on.
homemade seitan, crisped up in herbs and spices and tamari and smoke,
nootch-blasted and g.p.o.p.'d, too, obvi,
and added into the mix on the heavy side of enough.
(which is to say, too much is the right amount.)
and then the no-milk garlic mashed potato jauns on top.
i made 'em a little lumpy so you know that i do it right, y'all.
anybody?
...anyway,
that topcoat of heavy potato hottness made my day,
and a little baby bit of scallions topped it off.
mmhmm.
and then more gravy.
i mean, c'mon.
after all,
what am i?
an A*-hole??
nope.
i'm a big fat hole,
getting filled up with starch all damned day.
that's real.
i had company,
which helped a whole bunch, too.
getting fat with amber and beau is better than just
drowning in gravy all by myself.
the buddy system exists for a reason.
***********
heavy duty foodstuffs for me.
that's the best way to weigh down the rest of my body.
y'feel me?
if you've got a heavy head and a heavy heart,
usually,
its all the arms and legs that are moving around too much.
this way,
i'm leaden,
and laden,
and loaded with ingredients that might put me to sleep.
yeah.
a good night of overweight zzzz's is so nice.
food-induced coma time is a good time to regroup and reassess,
and wake up for more of all the rest of it.
i mean,
while i was sleeping off the gravy,
it all kept really happening.
i'll catch up, i'm sure, on all that's passed while i was passed out.
i'm not feeling well,
but i'm feeling well-rested, and well-fed;  
never quiet, never soft.....