this is oddly cathartic

so here I am in the midst of finishing a gargantuan pumpkin cheesecake.

it's about twenty minutes from coming out of the oven and right now the entire apartment is bathed in the heady aroma of pumpkin pie spice and several pounds of Philly's finest.

dibs on a slice anyone?

it's the biggest cheesecake recipe I've ever seen or made... well considering I've never made cheesecake before, but anyhows. I think this thing is gonna feed not only my colleagues but prolly most of the internet with some left over.

anyways earlier on I was following the roommate's recipe for a cookie crumb crust. like all his recipes, it was pretty basic: "mash 1 box cookies, mix with 1 stick melted butter, refrigerate".

he's a really, really good cook that lad, however his recipes tend towards the spartan on the details.

sooo... there I was wandering around the living room with a box of lorna doones and a 4 quart steel mixer bowl, wondering how in the fuck I was going to mash up an entire box of cookies - seeing as we're somewhat light on kitchen gear, y'know -- luxuries like rolling pins and such. not to mention the last time I tried something like this with a food processor it promptly went tits up.

Now, might I add that we do have eight bikes and seventeen pairs of wheels and about five thousand eight hundred seventy-two bicycle-related doo-dads and whatchamajiggers including a huge rollaway tool chest full of every bike part and maintenance option known to god (you know, those kind car mechanics have? we got one, only it's full of bike tools).

then inspiration struck as my eye lit upon ye olde 12 oz. claw hammer.

turns out a 12 oz. claw hammer is the dog's nutz for mashing cookies, especially in one of those cheapassed Target 4 quart steel mixer bowls cos the profile of the claw and the bottom of the bowl marry up like peas n carrots. So I wrapped that hammer up in a floursack rag, stuck an old Stabbing Westward cd in the stereo and got jiggy with it.

this freaked out the cat and I'm sure the downstairs neighbours wondered what the aitch I was up to, but as the Geto Boyz spit in the movie Office Space: god DAMN it feels good to be a gangsta.



I feel so much better now. thanks y'all for listening.

cheers,

LFR