That Ol' Feelin' I Get



My brother and his vegan wife are coming for dinner tomorrow night. First I was thinking I'd make ravioli, and then I remembered that Step One in making pasta is to make a 'well' in a mound of flour and break an egg in it. And eggs aren't vegan.

So then I thought about wonton noodles, which I haven't worked with before, but didn't think they'd be too hard. Alas, at my local purveyor of better chow, they had no wonton noodles. But, they did have filo dough. And filo dough, it turns out, is vegan vegan vegan. I only worked with filo a couple of decades ago when I had a job cooking in a restaurant. I don't rember it as being that hard, but we'll see. And what am I going to stuff my little filo pillows with?

Why... I'm glad you asked!

Some will be stuffed with butternut squash meat and shallots, and some will be stuffed with fennel and apples. All of them will go on a plate in a pool of a sort of cream sauce I'm making from pecans and soy milk, and they'll the heavy creamy butteryness will be relieved with some kale braised in vegetable stock.

Pretty lip smackin' good for vegan fare, huh?

But anyway.

God damn you, Very Hairy Man anyway.

What the hell?

Why can't I get a date? Why the hell is this so hard? Maybe it's the case that all the hot, happy, balanced, genuine men my age are already buddied up already, and so all I'm left with are the broken, depressive, out-of-shape, drug-addled, timid remains.

I'm getting really tired of this.

Damn you Very Hairy Man! You really pulled the rug out from under me.

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