January 15, 2016
Come Mrs. Tallyman, fondle me banana
For the record, Cook To Bang isn’t telling you to bang your nana. That is illegal in most countries and frowned upon everywhere else with the possible exception of Sweden. Why do you think they call it a Swedish pancake? Yet I digress, a bad habit since my ADHD childhood. Bananas are among my favorite fruits. Taste and phallic suggestiveness aside, the magnesium, potassium, riboflavin and B Vitamins run through the love machine you call your body like premium oil used in sports cars driven by men substituting for what they lack. But that’s not your problem. Is it, fellas? Even if it is, fret no longer. Bananas also turbo-charge the male libido with the enzyme bromelain. The fact “bro” is in the enzyme’s scientific name should not be lost on you. Fire up the griddle and make pancakes…in bed. Then make breakfast.
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January 6, 2016
Gotta lotta burrata to fatha
Some things in life just belong together. Dog and bone; man and woman; anal sex and lube. The sum is way more awesome than the parts. Can you imagine the Olympics without the ski and snowboard events? The very notion makes me shudder. That’s how I feel about creamy, dreamy burrata mozzarella. This majestic dairy product was hand delivered by Jesus, Buddha, and Mohammed on a cloud made of chocolate and feathers. But as good as burrata is, without some sort of tasty wingman, it’s like eating caking frosting in the dark alone on a Saturday night (been there, it ain’t pretty). Tomatoes are the natural go to for most lovers of the CAPRESE SALAD and all things Italian. But clearly those well intentioned, but uninitiated have never enjoyed roasted red peppers with their burrata. I am willing to overlook this infraction, but now you have no excuse. Each bite is like a millions tiny angels tickling your balls or breasts. Heaven is calling your name, my friends! Read the rest of this entry »
December 4, 2015
Avoid getting into scuffles when you truffle shuffe.
While CTB has already done the GRATUITOUS GRILLED CHEESE SINWICH to great fanfare, one gourmet grilled cheese sandwich just isn’t enough. Anyone whose been to a grilled cheese contest can tell you there’ more than one way to melt congealed milk. At the GRILLED CHEESE INVITATIONAL, I learned that there are as many variations on the grilled cheese as positions in the Kama Sutra. Since CTB is not about to make grilled cheese the exclusive format, allow me to present this grilled piece of awesome for your dining pleasure. In the interest of full disclosure, I just got truffle oil and am totally and positively gay for it. A little dab works like a super lube, revving up the sexy time explosions in your mouth. Alas, I applied the glorious oil to a grilled cheese lunch. I took my first bite while standing and nearly lost my footing. Luckily the girl I was cooking for was able to break my fall or I would have knocked over the precious truffle elixir and likely licked it straight off the floor. By the time we gobbled down our sinwiches, we danced a shuffle from the kitchen into the bedroom without bothering to wash our hands first. Read the rest of this entry »
October 19, 2015
“I’m long, and I’m strong, and I’m down to get the friction on!” – Sir Mix-A-Lot
Chicken salad makes most people think of a backyard luncheon on a Sunday afternoon after church. The respectable ladies wear their hats, fan themselves with the hymnal handouts, and nibble on dull chicken salad made with chicken, mayo, and sliced celery. I don’t blame you for dismissing chicken salad as a big old snooze-fest. But what if you substituted Mrs. Anderson’s usual yawn-inducing specialty with the Cook To Bang version turbo-loaded with all things banging? You got yourself a Whitesnake video in the backyard. The ladies will rip holes in their Sunday best, crawl across the foldout tables, and shake their teased hair around as if there’s an oversized fan conveniently blowing. The men, the good reverend included, will headbang and mosh, Jell-O cubes flying everywhere. Careful where you serve this salad! Cook To Bang is no liable for the aftermath.
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September 18, 2015
Ram that graham and until your lover say, "Dammmmn!"
Much props goes out to PRISCILLA in Charlotte, NC for this confection concoction. I first made this dessert while I was doing a CTB Home Invasion at her pad. Homegirl had so much great food to work with it was embarrassment of riches. The ladies atteneding all did agree that it was pretty damn delicious. Whodathunk such a random commingling of goods would kick such ass? The graham rammed itself down everybody’s throats with not a complaint in the mix. It’s as if it came to life, wooed each and every one of us individually, and then banged us sweetly. I want to say I was taken advantage of, perhaps violated. But that would be a lie. All witnesses can attest that I was flirting with my dessert all night. Every few minutes I’d be checking it out in the oven, fondling it, cooing sweet nothings about how banging it looked. I woke up in an empty bed with nothing but graham and coconut crumbs and a note that read: Thanks for the memories! Read the rest of this entry »
July 22, 2015
Foux da fafa all the way to the bedroom!
You gotta hand it to the French. No one pulls off being a bunch of fancy bitches quite like them. You’ll look like a goddamn pansy if you try to replicate without the accent. But for some reason they can act ass all sissy la la and it’s totally acceptable. So when it comes to cooking French-style cuisine, I always speak in a ridiculous accent, wear a beret, and engage in all things French: French fries, French kisses, French ticklers. Ca va? Tres bonne. Ca va et toi? Breakfast will never be the same once Frenchy McFrenchface comes to play. Read the rest of this entry »