Dykestopia

Mah mise is mah muse...

Ingredients: 1/2 cup 50% butter/50% olive oil. Heart attack blend. 6-8 minced toes of garlic. Or 1 whole foot. 2 large yellow onions, diced. I’m not crying. You’re crying. 2 roasted red bell peppers and 1 roasted jalapeno, peeled and chopped. 1 bottle dry red wine. 1 cup for sauce, I cup to get sauced. 2 tbsp Balsamic glaze For sweetness, sweetness. 10 cups crushed tomatoes. Crushed like my dreams. A bunch of sacrificial basil, stems and all. 2 tsp crushed fennel seed. You can omit, but I would object. Crushed red pepper, to taste and sensibilities. Mo hotta, I say. Salt and Peppa. Is here. In full effect.

Slowly sweat the onions in the fatness. Sweat, like you are asking them an embarrassing question. Outside. In Texas. June-ish. They shouldn’t caramelize, just become super pale and soft. Like a Midwesterner in February.

Next, add the garlic and seasonings. Let the fat do its work. Get some garlic aromatherapy. 

Next comes the roasted peppers and balsamic glaze. I use the balsamic glaze and peppers to add the sweetness instead of sugar or tomato paste. That’s the way I roll, bruh. 

Now add the 1 cup reserved wine and let the heat cook out the alcohol like your overtaxed, engorged liver is currently attempting. A few minutes should be ok*. Unlike your digestive system. That’s about 1 oz/80 proof/hr *Actual title of sex tape.

Yep. Here I am revisiting an ill used blog site like some homesick kid revisiting his old High School locker. Which I’ve done. Of course.

My goal in this glorious Solar Cycle is to actually write and post shit here. I understand your lack of trust. It’s not like we are coworkers and what not. Nor have I shown an inclination towards a regular output of creativity, BUT....

It’s time to move forward. Have some fun. Take the piss. Take A piss. Chomp down on the world like a pit bull puppy who hasn’t been smacked with a newspaper. “Yes, and” every Goddamn thing in sight and only relax when we can smell the coppery scent of their bloody corpses... Ooops... Sorry about that last part. That was for later.