that's the diagnosis, dudes.
and i've got an acute case of it, flaring up in my F*ing face.
yeah.
spicy noods are what's poppin',
and spicy noods are what i'm makin',
and spicy noods are what i need.
that's real talk.
food is for sure the only outlet i invest my feelings into.
i mean, it always reciprocates,
and nourishes, and sustains, and fills you right back up with nutrients and energy.
how many people can we honestly say the same about?
and really, every time i eat food, i'm synthesizing vitamins and sh!t-
whereas half the time i span with people,
i'm pretty frustrated at the missed opportunities to connect at more than superficial face-value.
so food wins.
and spicy noods?
well, honestly, neighbors, who likes bland noods?
nobody who is any good, i'll wager.
i like 'em HOT and FAT.
wait- is that nudes or noods?
BOTH, b.
duh.
however, right now,
i'm specifically referring to the thai thursday sesame sriracha garlic jauns
that rocked me from my nose to my toes.
mmmhmmmm.
check the teleport:
SO. MUCH. FUEGO.
guys,
the sauce was the superstar here.
it kinda always is.
there are thick udons,
grilled cabbage in sesame oil;
a small head of broccoli;
and then a medley of: sweet baby bell pepper spears, chili pepper, red onion,
garlic, purple carrot, celery, and double sossamon sesame sprankles-
which all got tossed into a hot pan, covered in sauce,
lidded, steamed, and served at lava-hot temperature.
plus, there's cukes, tomatoes, and radishes, on top of a bed of baby spinach-
plus a few cilantro stalks to turn up that freshie-fresh taste.
how about that?
salad, noodles, stir-fry, the works-
sweet heat and crazy crunch, char and sauce and everything expert.
the sauce is the driving force.
here's what i had in the mix:
-
*
THAILANDO CALRISSIAN!
-
2 tsp sesame oil;
2 T sriracha;
2 T agave;
3 T rice wine vinegar;
2 T lime juice;
1 T tamari;
1/2 tsp ea Garlic Powder Onion Powder;
1 tsp coriander;
1/4 tsp ground mustard seed;
1 large clove crushed garlic;
2 tsp chili-garlic paste;
1 T green dragon ho'sauce.
stir it up, whisk it well, and let it hang out while you're chopping veggies.
a little marinating never hurt a sauce.
-
broccoli color is a good indcator of doneness-
the cabbage gets charred first, before the brox get added,
but, after a quick saute, the sauce and the veg get added,
and then, you just shake the sh!t outta the lidded pan until the florets get almost-olive.
too earth-toned of a broccoli stalk, and you've mushed the whole thing.
that's the big NO-NO.
so pay attention, and you'll be a hero to your tongue and palate.
-
i dunno if i was even feeling like making dinner.
the next thing i knew, i was photographing a tight, TILTY, tasty bowl of hottness.
i s'pose it's a component of my infinite nature.
i make things that are designed to disappear.
huh?
well, yeah, i also make things that are designed to last as long as you do.
right?
tattoos aren't forever, but they're for as long as you're around, at least.
dinner doesn't ever even last long enough to be left over.
both require my attention and my affection and my effort,
but one is a lot more rewarding, while the other one pays pretty good...
***********
root beer floats with two crazy straws.
secret love letters tucked away to be found, at random, later on.
flowers for no special reason.
y'know- cute romantic stuff.
THAT'S what i like-
letters and sodas, man.
c'mon...s'kyoot.
i don't have ANY of that,
and i'm getting increasingly suspicious that wanting it is the surest way NOT to get it.
s'kinda weird how that works.
there's no forcing it, and there's no attracting it-
especially if you work as often as i do,
or span as much time at home otherwise.
i don't imagine that clients are interested in gettin' flirked and flirted on,
and i know for a fact that the tasty lady delivery service does NOT have
the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress on it's current route.
also, if there is such a thing as that,
tell me how to get my street address on GPS, because it currently doesn't exist.
so,
there's no smoochie-cuties in my immediate vicinity.
and that's not great news.
however, it gets a little worse-
what i've got instead is a damned dumb dirty dog.
and i don't know what the eff his problem is,
but i do know that it's somehow also always my problem, too.
so,
there's a smooshy, spongy, poop-butt battle-beast A*-blasting the countryside
with exxxplosive apocalypse anus,
and he's all mine to deal with.
i know, it's not sharing dessert, or back rubs, or bubble baths, or whatever-
but it is all really happening.
i'll just go ahead and assume that this'll only make the sweetness so much sweeter
by comparison, if it happens to cross my path-
let's hope the sour stench of a slightly slimy nopale-paddle poop-butt
isn't steaming next to me when that sugar happens to pass on by;
never quiet, never soft.....
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