LINGUINE!!!!!

nate came through with the linguine.
what?
what do YOU mean what do i mean?
dudes,
i've been teasing him about how he hasn't invited me over to his new place yet-
y'know, to make me some linguine or somethin'....
he still hasn't.
but he did get me some fancy pasta jauns to make for myself at home.
and i'm down for grabbin' wins wherever they're handin' 'em out, holmes.
so, i got this nicey-nice pasta for X-mas, and i wasn't about to let it sit for even a second.
i got home and i got to cookin'.
mmhmm.
check the teleport:

TRONGUINE ALBERTO!!!
ha.
y'all might act like you don't be creamy, but y'all be creamy.
i know it.
heck, i made it.
and i ate it alllllll.
which was a LOT, but then again, it's holiday time,
and too much is the right amount during every season
f'real.
cream, son.
get the money.
dollar dollar bill y'all.
uh-huh.
i made the pasta in salty water.
duh.
it says how on the package;
what are you? an A*-hole?
c'mon.
don't be dumb.
and i dry-fried those thick-cut baby bellas with a lil salt on a hot pan,
until both sides were brown,
and there was 0% sliminess on those sexxxy funghi chips, boi!
yum.
i had the broccoli florets gettin' steamy next to those tomato halves,
and i had that whole pan lidded to steam a little hottness into all of it.
yep.
olive oil, salt, and a splash of water had me like: whoah.
and that's good stuff.
is that fried garlic on there?
OBVI.
rules is rules, and besides, what is pasta without garlic?
bullsh!t, that's what.
parsley and crushed red peppery sprankles?
yes and yes.
i want the maxxxximum hot fire on my food,
and if i'm eatin' pasta, i want more activation than the pan can handle, man.
wu-TANG, that's my muh-fuh'n word.
*
the real star, though?
i mean, besides those hella thiccc 'guine ropes?
the SAUCE!
yep.
vegan alfredo alberto magic, for your face.
creamy as hell.
rich and savory and comforting like hugs and kisses, kids.
no joke.
i needed it, and i had it, and i lapsed into a lazy languorous food trance right afterwards.
mmmmmmmm.
-
*
CREAMY SAUCE!!!
-
in a 1 quart saucepot, create a roux-
2 T vegan butter;
2 T olive oil;
1 clove crushed garlic;
2 T minced onion;
2 T nootch;
1 tsp ea GPOP;
3 T ap flour-
get that flour hella toasty, and combined with the fats and the roots,
then add:
1 1/2 cups non-dairy milk;
pink salt;
lots of black pepper;
2 T minced parsley;
1 T lemon juice-
stir on medium-high heat, and watch that bihhhh get thickened and luscious.
when it's thick af, turn the heat down to low-low, stir it up,
and mabe even add a splash of pasta water if it's too gloppy.
guys!
it's so creamy, and it's so GOOD.
that's the truth.
as always,
i tossed my perfectly al dente pasta in with a big ol' glug
of that off-white delight before i plated it,
and i tossed the veggies in too-
MORE sauce is better, forever and ever.
that's just the way it is.
*
if nothing else is going right,
i know i'm literally nourishing my body properly, at the very least.
i eat well, whether or not i'm living poorly.
that's important to me.
being vegan isn't something i decided in order to inconvenience others.
in fact, i'd rather stay home than be a nuisance to folks who are indifferent to the
dilemma of diet and ethics.
i'm not trying to be the catalyst for recalcitrantly dug-in heels,
and exxxtra helpings of roast beef as a defense mechanism
to the feeling of being judged for things some folks don't consider an issue at all.
y'know?
i've seen it happen, and it makes me sad-
the oppositional attitude of doing something even harder, to reinforce your own belief
in the face of an alternative viewpoint.
that's gross.
and i want no part of it.
the thing is:
i get literally nauseous at the sight and smell of cooked animals.
i'm serious.
i was never one for the sight of blood and guts,
but i've gotten especially sensitive as i've gotten older.
twenty something years of meatlessness has eroded my tolerance
for the idea of muscle tissue and organs as food.
i mean it.
i just can't do it.
so, i'm here at home, eating fancy pasta, and adding extra sprankles to the top,
and doing my best to eat well, mostly by my lonesome.
in my Folk Life & Liberty Fortress,
i have my own weird little bubble-world.
mealtimes are a source of comfort here.
i know what i've got,
i know what i'm doing,
i know what's up.
truly, i don't wanna be in charge of how other people live.
that's no good for anybody,
but i also don't want to half-puke about what's on someone else's table.
it's 100% my issue, and as such, i'm holed up here in my house,
gettin' wild with the vegetables,
making certain i don't inflict my code of ethics on anybody else.
i love food,
i just don't want anybody to have to die about it,
and that includes me;
never quiet, never soft.....