caramel pickles and buttermilk pizza

unsnackable vol. 44

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Folu

Jul 20 2021

4 mins read

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I have accidentally begun a psychological experiment on the impact of using the pomodoro method from the moment I wake until I go to bed. I set my little timer, with notifications that echo through my brain in a minor key during the workday and a major key when I'm slogging through other life tasks, and I try to keep moving. 

I mostly feel like this every day in a deeply unsustainable way.

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The only upside is that I have been able to engage in "food" as a concept and cook for the first time in what feels like an eternity. 

An excessive order of brisket from my (recently re-opened) favorite bbq spot left me with leftovers that needed to be nestled in a freshly baked sharp cheddar buttermilk biscuit with some green chile sauce

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My inability to keep track of the six types of flour in my pantry led me to mistakenly add buttermilk powder meant for my biscuits to my pizza dough, but I was rewarded with a rich tangy dough that browned beautifully in my cast iron. Shaved carrots tossed in olive oil and za'atar, mozz & provolone, shaved fennel, merguez sausage, duck fat poached tomatoes, and Spanish olives sat atop that pillowy crust.

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I also reveled in the pure dopamine hit of reaching into my telfar at the function to dole out packages of these shortbread bars to friends who were not expecting them. A lemongrass-infused passionfruit and peach curd was sandwiched between a butter shortbread base and a ginger shortbread topping.

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A well-rounded diet of snack evangelism is the key to a successful life, sometimes via sharing homemade baked goods and other times via a fresh batch of unsnackables


the unsnackables



sweet

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I've become increasingly fixated on a remake of Sliding Doors about the redheaded mascot of this creamy curd cheese snack with a chocolate cereal topping and her alternate life as Wendy's mascot. Where does her happiness lay? In the pastoral life of endorsing a Russian children's snack or as the face of the multinational home of square burger patties. And if this scenario is making you suspect that I have never actually seen Sliding Doors, you would be correct.



savory


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I am mostly fearless in the kitchen, thanks to a lifelong food media consumption diet and a healthy dose of self-delusion that I often call "good instincts" but I'm terrified of home canning. I have no aspirations to brew a batch of homemade botulism and the Nigerian food I grew up with included lots of fermented foods that fermentation never occurred in a heat-sealed container. By far, canning itself is more stressful than the idea of salted caramel pickles. Reviews say the flavor lives firmly in the uncanny valley but I'm still so deeply curious. 



thirsty


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A cousin of the iconic Icelandic Applesin, this soda brings together Pineapple and Orange. It's the perfect accompaniment for one of those Icelandic hotdogs that everyone recommends but no one can ever explain why they are so good. (They are SO good though)



boozy

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I'm not the gambling sort because it often feels like the odds of life already leave too much to chance. It has been a summer of ever-encroaching realities of climate change, but all I'm hoping for is a single day where my schedule and the weather align well enough to hit the beach. Maybe I could summon 80+ degrees and minimal cloud cover if I packed a few of these RTDs with a combo of a bright basil lemonade with earthy sea buckthorn liqueur into my beach bag. 



I’m still figuring this out, but hopefully, you enjoyed v.44 of unsnackable.

If you didn’t please don’t tell me, tell your friends to subscribe because they hopefully have better taste than you.


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I’ll try any snack at least once, so don’t be shy if there is something you want to send me to try.

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