vegan blizzard

Question time. I wouldn't say I'm still "new" to Southern California as a whole anymore, after spending a good five years or so of my adult life here. Where I'm from, the local Dairy Queen is sort of the spot to be when you're young and looking to get into some trouble for the night. Out here, especially in the city, kids and teens seem to have a more...refined palette...when it comes to their after-school machinations; they shop on Melrose, they go rock climbing. Never in my life before coming to LA have I seen a mother take her brood into Starbucks and buy her seventh-grader a real coffee drink formulated for adults. It's just not right.

I guess my question is, do we have Dairy Queens out here? I've been around, but I honestly can't remember ever running into one. We've got plenty of IHOPs, that much is for sure, but I'll never have any idea why. Anyway, it's Friday, and we're bringing it right back to the early 2000s with a vegan version of what has got to be one of the most thoroughly satisfying desserts of all time: that's right, you guessed it. We're going to be making a vegan blizzard, fully loaded, just in time for the weekend.

frozen fruit

frozen spinach

soymilk

brownies

I know what you're thinking: it's so simple, will it really hit the spot? Oh, ye of little faith.

If you've ever had a blizzard, you already know the best part is always the chunk factor. If you have not ever had a blizzard, 1., I feel bad for you, and 2., allow me to explain.

A blizzard is best described as a sundae halfway fucked up into a milkshake; while it's served in a cup, it's much too dense to be consumed through a straw. You can put anything you want in a blizzard, chocolate morsels, cookie dough, hot fudge, caramel, maybe even raisins if you're a real masochist. The whipping of the blizzard suspends in the body of the ice cream what would normally be found only sprinkled on at the end; the idea is you get the experience of eating semi-solid custard with toppings throughout. Nobody wants to struggle through six inches of straight soft serve, least of all me.

These are a few frozen brownies from yesterday. Nuke them for thirty seconds and set them aside for the time being.

This is, once again, my disgusting smoothie bag; I'll bet you thought I retired it for the season, but rest assured it's still alive and just as gross as ever. I acquired a healthy amount of spinach on sale a fortnight or so ago and had the foresight to blanch it for the future instead of eating spinach hummus every day that week. We'll be relying on it heavily today in order to give this thing some marketability as a healthier alternative to store-bought vegan confections. We're gonna give those corporate fatcats the ol' one-two.

Fill up the cup about halfway with some soymilk. Break off a piece of brownie and toss that and a few banana slices in, right off the bat. Carefully pick the spinach out from the rest of the produce in the bag. Once you've made it to the maximum fill line, add in the rest of that first brownie, just for good measure. Whiz it up.

Oh, yeah. If you're anything like me, you already know this looks absolutely nothing like the real thing. The funny thing about cooking though is that it doesn't matter if it looks good, just so long as it tastes good. And boy, howdy, does it ever.

Crumble up the rest of the brownies. Dump in about eighty percent, reserving the rest to put on top for show. Give it a good stir. Get your face in there and thank me later.

Honestly, what makes this one really work for me is the fact that these brownies turned out so dry; they're the perfect vessel to soak up all of that delicious fake ice cream. The fact that this thing is made up primarily of spinach and black beans also makes it an extremely filling breakfast in the least ironic way possible. I truly cannot remember the last time an actual full meal quieted the unnatural vegan hunger I feel every waking moment of my life.

Do people do beans in smoothies? That feels like something more of us should be getting into. I swear to god, this is my new thing.