a few years back,
when my buddy beau was livin' especially mobile-homelessly,
he put me on to the stuff.
ever since then,
whenever i think back to his stripped-bare interior-less car,
i make sure i indulge in a bag of the stuff.
and naturally, i eat it in the comfort of the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress,
and not in a vehicle with a removed dashboard and no seats.
it's a study in relative luxury, comparative desires,
and the commonalities that tie us all together...
y'know?
sure,
i want MORE house, and MORE stuff, and MORE time-
whereas he was determined to have no house,
and somehow even less car,
despite the fact that his vehicle was his imminent domain every night.
ha.
y'like that one?
ANYway,
despite the prince-and-pauper dissimilarities,
we could both agree that chocolate granola is great.
and i like to think that we were both enjoying a bag of that tasty business,
under the same sky, just one in squalor and the other in splendor,
both by choice and by design.
chocolate granola, man.
it's that good.
in fact,
it's SO good i had to make myself some turbo hippie-style jauns,
and i am sure glad i did just that, because they hit the spot.
now,
i'm not likely to socks-and-sandals my way to any music festivals this summer,
but,
i am sure as heck gonna enjoy some crunchy granola cookies.
there's a well-defined line i'm standing on one side of-
and on the other side, there are a lot of man-buns and tie-dyes and incense.
dudes,
check the teleport:
OOOOOOH!!!
granola inside, granola topside.
that's the way to doo-doo that happy hippie sh!t.
for real.
a good cookie is a blessing.
these guys followmy favorite cookie format,
only with MORE big chunks than ever before.
yeah.
you want some?
make some.
*
chocolate granola hottness is not just for hikers and djembe-players.
-
1 stick (8T) vegan butter;
1 cup light brown sugar;
1/2 tsp salt;
2 tsp vanilla;
^creamed,
and whisked with 3/4 cup applesauce.
2 cups a.p. flour;
1/2 cup oat flour;
1/4 cup coarse ground coconut;
1 tsp baking soda;
1 tsp baking powpow;
1 1/2 cups chocolate granola.
(make your own, if you're a serious treehugger.
personally,
i used some back to nature chocolate with chocolate chunks stuff that is awesome)
1/2 cup chocolate chunxxx.
that's right, kids.
exxxtra chunxxx.
why?
oh, you already know-
too much is the right amount.
boom.
start forming up some golf-ball-sized blops, (a few dozen or more)
and give those balls of doughy dopeness a squish into even MORE granola,
yeah.
that way you get those knobbly tops,
and those get baked at 375F,
for 13 minutes per baking sheet.
that's all there is to it, neighbors.
you're all set.
***********
i'm still feeling cooked-out.
and that's not a good feeling, either.
i DID receive some FOOD&WINE magazines from my friends,
and i have to confess something to you guys-
i LOVE looking at sexxxy pictures of food.
i know it's called food porn for a reason,
but, damn, a sensual shot of a well-spread table can get me more excited
than the most scandalous text messages.
ha.
that's the truth, too.
i spent a few minutes ogling ravioli centerfolds and such,
and while i feel more inspired than i did,
i wouldn't say i'm poised to conquer any new territory at dinner tonight.
awwwwwwwwww.
for real, though.
it's awfully hard to rise up to a mega-terrific mealtime
after yet another 'nother installement of excrementably effluential
crabtree crap-treats.
guys,
it's horrible.
i knew it was gonna be a charnel chamber of fecal torture because
i could smell hot heaps of terrier turds before i even got in the door!
i know you'e jealous of my dog's delicate digestive tract,
but,
what. the. actual. mother. F*. bro?
he got into a big heap of apple peels.
this after i gifted him a single wedge as a special reward
for being especially gentle and obedient the past few days,
which only whetted his appetite for self-destruction,
and pushed his will past the point of good behavior.
womp-womp.
no good deed goes unpunished around here,
and no kindness i've ever given has failed to repay me with pure sh!t.
awesome.
maybe i'm not cooked-out,
maybe i'm just sh!tted-up.
either way,
it's an added degree of difficulty, and while i'm not giving in,
i'm certainly struggling more than i was.
i guess the harder way IS really forever my way.
the good news is that my car still has an interior,
and i have plenty of granola.
the huldufolk of old could not comfortably hang out around here;
never quiet, never soft.
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