Culinary Adventure: An Elk walked to Korea and became friends with the Wooly Mammoth 50,000 Years Earlier and that’s how you get Shumai Pie {Eventually.}

(I didn’t cook Shumai Pie. Yet.}

Disdain almighty.

6:38pm [I started.]

And a nice notch later.

Free-dried and tupperware-canned. Shredded.

With flat wooden spoon + long tongs.

Either way.

Tasty.

And the edamame defrosted nice. Snack out da fridge.

And night meats. Prepped.

Leave the fork.


“I’m such an asshole.” type-o-meal. The Traditional Way โ˜บ๏ธ๐Ÿคž๐Ÿผ๐Ÿ˜Œ๐Ÿ˜„๐ŸคŒ๐Ÿผ๐Ÿค™๐Ÿผ๐Ÿซฃ

SHE SHREDDED IT..ZZZ๐Ÿ˜ด๐Ÿคง

Dems is ribs.

It’s all Hokkaido Shredded Rib-meat Burnt Ends!! Braised.

Mmm. Coriander Seeds after they’ve been roasted.

Fennel or Anise is always a debate.

Anise this time.

Anise makes me think nutmeg and Fennel makes me think culantro.

Warm and Cold Seasonal Flavors?? Been transitioning.

Butternut Soup, eventually. Yum Yums.

I know those dialects, I speaketh the language.

Shitty appetizer bowl for no guilt.

It’s basically Irish Wonton Nachos and Barbecue Rib Dippers.

Oh my, but the edamame is nice simple, salty saline freshness.

Trying to stray away from too much rice lately.

Been enjoying bread.

Air-Fryer croutons are your best friend. My worst enemy for 6 years and snacks. Distilled jarred Oils phase.

Thyme + Rosemary. Better than Parsley and I’m Italian.

hyperglonic tonic for blues blues and mean reds and meany heads. a meal to scent the entire vestibule of living in a driving distance.

Waft the wind with all that open air. Theirs too smelled delicious, mysterious neighbor out there.

Porky Sizzle, very nice.

When the rib burnt end, that little flab-flat there and you like grip it with tongs that little corner and it releases all that heavily emulsified yummy-smells lard ya been patient with. I smelled it.

And it got me through the second leg of knife-slatting Elk loin medallions into ground-mince. Hot Mustard Apple Cider Vinegar Tartare with Banana Peppers and Fridge-curing Onion rich.

The plastic baggie and storage bins never felt so rejuvenated.

Waiting atop the mini fridge now delectable.

The Turkey Confit has some friends momentarily, after the good toscano salsicjhanea became broken tortellini rose sauce a plain microwave pasta. And then a most recent elbow pasta with that ready stuff. Cabbage boiling down to stock and shit and the cheese congealing with some slight diluted milkwater and butter stick.

Dry-aged a Angus Chuck Steak in my mini-fridge. Paired with some old ass precut broccoli florets microwave steam pack, freSHHHH.

Oh my.

The pantry is only 6 months old really, and she has been fortuitous. More past(a) rations on the way.

Lament another pic.

I’m tired as hell and my feet are swollen and I’ve eaten.

Mysteriously, so

In

Anticipation:

Elk Hot Mustard Tartare Shumai + Shredded Burnt End Candied Ribs with Caramelized Onion Relish; and Microwaved Edamame.

Extra WordsPerCount + All.. ๐ŸคŒ๐Ÿผ๐Ÿ˜Ž๐ŸคŒ๐Ÿผ *makeitallshadowyandwhispylikeagentlebeachybreezeinthatfeelinfyeaaahhh~~~*

bite bite

Don’t look at my fingernails. They’re growing.

As are the brow yippie โ˜บ๏ธโ˜บ๏ธ I’ll look more like those emojis [again.] soon enough.

Shadow Brows… Reminds me of being a kung fu actress when I was 16 as a touring musician in The Bay Area and Haightsbury-Ash.

I was Ash then, it called.

Now I eat burnt as a favorite flavor besides acidic and savory.

Get Burnt!

My favorite type of people of many field(s) would appreciate this sentiment.

She Crispzy + Textured ๐Ÿซฃ๐Ÿคซ๐Ÿ˜๐Ÿคฉ

the money shot.

Ya leave the nummies for the texture.

Notice the top-o-thepack broken wonton skins crumbles I crisped up.

Tagliatelle style. {{fHOR GARNISH.}} [always edible. don’t fight me on garnish-ethics. pffmt pffmt goes the roast station cheffy sam-รฉ at home.]

Wontons are not so Delicate, as one may assume.

Just like pasta.

Takes a lot of ill-method to bust a ravioli let alone a raviol which is basically egg pie.

That big wonton is a 3-fold.

The crispy snacker!

A little bigger a lot more love.

Like the huge empanada you tuck away while making.

Always think it’s gonna be the first bite, not so.

Always the ugly flat snacker before the pic.

Chefs are like that.

Regardless of culinary school this or that. Like.

We cook great food all the time. My shittyier cooking of food would sell in gastropubs.

And this is shitty Hokkaido; Korean-Japanese food.

Traditional.

And pretty tasty with a lot of roundabout on how these leftovers can be remade.

Besides the cold snack of tiny fork and meat out the mini fridge of burnt ends shredded.. wonton mini cast iron pie with those ribs is hella tasty.

Ever since I made Apple Dish and then Figgy Pudding with dah burnt shit, I’ve been embracing. A 3-4 hour cook and then I can remake leftovers in the microwave or oven or air fryer quickly enough. Downtime, just checking it.

It’s become my favorite food.

For all the shit I talk my meatloaf still tastes like lumpia batter. I’m getting closer to making a good cafeteria tray of it with all this cabbage work.

Good thickener, vegetable matter. Roughage. Fiber. Aka.

And I’ve been cooking with bread more to thicken.

Which is qyiioloquo for “I get real fucking cheffy to pull that shit off.”

Canappeesss the revenge. And the “French Lorraine cleaning my fridge right now.” I think of that in my least hopeful times and how happy I was to throw those wedge medieval clunkers in the desk spot of trash bags tied up and advocation for knots in my bustier to bandeaus.

Or my sweat pants.

Clearance on Drywall.

Gave one of mine away, the tank tops, and gave me a new from the marts o’ the world.

Busted one strap just to see what I could do with it.

At least it wasn’t… super glued the knot for a crop top bandueau only like … . . . . .. .ย  Latest work.

Now I got two.

More outfits.

The blue and the orange pair of the new multi pack of socks I got have been breaking up my looks. S

So colorful, while looking monotone like black+white.

I’ve been doing this style of cooking with the same complaints in this house with only men since 57′. [things are different now, what can ya say.. also I keep avoiding commas when I work on my phone like they’re gonna break a tag. Dunk dem shits brought a funny old pal in the marketing schemes of me perusing my webpage just to see how tf I live life. And the news sends me a personal message later..Ho Hum, well I suppose The Papers were trees of apple or grape back in the day *imagine in my old Gold-rimmed Tortoiseshell Ray Ban Clubmasters. Pilot License included , FAA approved ๐Ÿ˜Ž๐ŸŒฆ๏ธโ›ˆ๏ธ๐ŸŒช๏ธ๐ŸŒฌ๏ธ๐ŸŒ€โ˜”โšก indeed…* At least I quit the ciggies, but the murmur doesn’t mind a special occasion.] [Oh I forgot, there’s a whole can of Sapporo in there to make the beerteriyaki sauce in all that oniony-relish goodness. {may not drink really but the holidays or a shitty sip of sour-pricked scrunched lips at wine when I use it to deglaze. I didn’t drink it. Freezer-burnt in the mini-fridge dot after 6 months. Perfect for teriyaki glaze! Dark Corn Syrup too instead of Sugar ๐Ÿ˜‰ tell me why.} I thought I’d make the ribs version now. And not french like in that last econo-domino talk in What’s for Dinner? a few months back. Ration food..back to the story!!! ~~~~๐Ÿชญ๐Ÿ”ฎ๐Ÿชญ๐Ÿ”ฎ๐Ÿชญ๐Ÿ”ฎ๐Ÿ‘ป]].. .. . .

Oh Korea, “all those vets are passing out. Don’t exist no more.” I

Know where to find em.

Not as long ago as you think for someone to have been 20 or younger to fight then.

Ribs on the Friday after Sep 13th.

Good tradition.

The Elk Tartare just made it fancier.

desk view lady bird
always looks like distilling maple syrup to me.
backwarrddsdsd
caramelized?? and toasted rice! Special Occasions Only. ๐Ÿ˜Ž๐Ÿค“๐Ÿฅธ
claro ,,,
sheath.

Onion Root for Thickener

Type of Life.

the only song I screenshotted during the event. [abhorrable it was. and very berry noicey.] which means I really love it!! ๐Ÿ‘บ๐Ÿ‘พ๐Ÿ‘ป๐Ÿง›๐Ÿปโ€โ™€๏ธ๐Ÿฅท๐Ÿปโ˜ ๏ธ

Fuck it.

I gots da foods now ๐Ÿคท๐Ÿปโ€โ™€๏ธ

Complaints and All.

I achieved my goal…

….

..

.

…..heynooowww…๐Ÿ˜„๐Ÿ˜†๐Ÿฅณ

[brightside it.

don’t let anyone intrude on your life like you don’t matter.

distracted or drive; don’t do both at the same time. even in ethic.

steer the boat bitch!! ๐Ÿซถ๐Ÿผ] [Figuratively, but not a bad notion to admit literally too. Hmm… -Sam ๐Ÿฅท๐Ÿป๐Ÿ‰๐ŸŒŒ


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