February 29, 2016
French your breakfast and your date will be Frenching you
Holy shit, it’s a leap year! That means paradox like the English and French getting along. Some say the English need to loosen up. They walk around with their quiet desperation eager to break out of their shells and become the wild men and women that would make their ancestors gasp. This tends to happen whenever limeys leave the UK and travel to exotic locales. Ibiza…nuff said. Perhaps a little French Laissez-faire is just the ticket. So alas, I have employed a little French to make the sexiest English muffin you ever did eat. It was pure accident and the girl I made it for wasn’t even English or French for that matter. But with no bread in sight and my sweet tooth demanding tribute be paid, I made do. I’m sure glad I didn’t have bread because I was down to French these English muffins all morning. My date from the previous night was confused, thinking it a tad early in our affair for me to make proclamations of love. I didn’t have the heart to tell her I was speaking to my breakfast. But then she took a bite and the love fest continued well into the afternoon.
Total time: approximately 12 minutes
Projected cost: $5
Drinking Buddy: NOT-SO-TEENY WEENY BELLINI
Ingredients (serves 2):
1. ¼ cup milk
2. ½ cup maple syrup
3. ½ teaspoon vanilla extract
4. 2 dashes cinnamon
5. 2 eggs
6. 2 English muffins
7. 1 banana
8. 1 tbsp butter
9. 1 handful raisins
Create the batter by whipping up the eggs, cinnamon, vanilla extract and milk.
Split the English muffins in half and submerge them in the batter. Heat up a pan or griddle on medium heat and grease it with the butter. Throw the soaked English muffins on the pan all together and pour the excess batter over. Cook each side until it browns and flip (approx 3 min per side).
While you are Frenching the toast, create the extra awesome syrup. Heat up the syrup in a small bowl, chop the banana into bite-sized pieces and toss them in with the raisins. Cook until the syrup boils and the bananas brown slightly (approx 2 min). Serve over your sexed up English muffins and hold on for dear life.
Serve this breakfast knowing full well that you could swim across the English channel, bridging that cultural gap.
January 18, 2016
Flirty, dirty and wordy. This sandwich offers all manners of sinful delights.
This turkey sandwich is no ordinary sandwich. It has sex appeal scientists are struggling to devise a method of measuring. It can’t help flirting with everyone its path. This sandwich has won over everyone it has met besides a few vegetarians who are questioning their own eating habits. That is the power of said sandwich. The tantalizing melted brie cheese, cranberry goodness, creamy aphrodisiac-laden avocado and crunchy bread dares to take you where no sandwich has gone before. You almost forget your eating a sandwich at all. It seems more like nosh meant for the gods who happen to be food snobs. I made this sandwich and God said it was good. God said it was damn good and paused time so he could have second. Amen! Read the rest of this entry »
December 16, 2015
We’ve only just begun, but I’m down to take my sweet sweet time.
Seduction is all about finesse. You can’t just meet someone, ram your tongue down their throat and expect to enjoy full penetration within 10 minutes. Perhaps if your life is a porno…but the rest of us need to play it cool, even after we break the banging seal. This applies especially to anyone who spends the night that you want to keep around for a little while. If you decide not to fake a family emergency to force them out of your bed, you might as well make them breakfast. Busting out the caviar to sprinkle over your lobster FRITTATA might be overkill. Try something a little simpler that makes an impression like a well-positioned tongue. The parfait is the perfect vehicle for morning foreplay because it takes seconds to hook up something refreshing, healthy and damn tasty. With the morning lubricated by the Parfait Foreplay, proceed with blowing off your plans to bang well into the afternoon. Read the rest of this entry »
December 7, 2015
It's the happiest ending on Earth!
You want happy ending? You got happy ending. No ending will be quite so happy as the one that follows this meal. If you can’t get laid with mussels and wine, you will never get laid…with this date. Move on. Your pheromones must be reeking of something close to a hippo’s ass if this dish fails to land you in bed. Steamed APHRODISIACS incarnate swimming in a broth of spicy awesomeness will unleash the alpha instinct left dormant by society’s deprogramming. Embrace the power endowed in you and take what is yours. The secret to steamed mussels success is that they are simple to make. But your date doesn’t need to know that. All they should be aware of is that this dish looks, smells and tastes impressive. Think of this dish like some Eurasian rock star that defies classification unless you are classifying something as ethereal. Now get out there and pretend cooking these mussels is worthy of a Nobel Prize! I already received my prize…in the bottom of a box of cereal. Read the rest of this entry »
November 11, 2015
Lickable leeks + penetrated potatoes = sensual soup
Nothing can top a good leeking. Pull your mind out of the gutter because I speak only of soup and soup-related matters. And on the subject of soup, you can’t really beat hot liquid love. No, siree! This soup almost makes you wish the winter would drag on. To those snowed in with cabin fever, I said ALMOST. After hauling your ass in from the brutal bitch slap of old man winter you want something hearty to bro-hug you back to life. Lucky for you, potatoes and leeks keep quite well until the bitter end of frost. So do us all a favor and put the gun down and pick up a knife…to cut some veggies. We have abstained from using heavy, fattening cream in the hope that you don’t abstain from banging afterwards. As comforting and gratifying as this healthy, homemade soup is, there is no substitute for a warm body to touch inappropriately. So let one lead into the other. This recipe was brought to you by the International Association of Soup Groups. Read the rest of this entry »
October 16, 2015
If you don’t like succulent food, you can suck it.
Can you slice a watermelon with a katana blade? Do you use nunchucks to pound out pizza dough? Can you catch a fly with chopsticks? Then you are a kitchen ninja. Clearly your rigorous training has paid off because your culinary concoctions are deadly delicious. You make the knuckleheads competing on Top Chef look like low-level samurai sous chefs. Now it’s time to drop a sake bomb in your home kitchen in the ultimate mission: sexual culinary conquest. There’s an unattainable geisha whose lotus flower has not been plucked in many rice harvests. It’s time to mix your Japanese fighting style with some Western flavor to make funky fusion food. Assemble your fiercest weapon: APHRODISIACS and make your sensei proud. Should you fail, you must perform hari-kari. Now go get ‘em, you nasty ninjas! Read the rest of this entry »
October 12, 2015
Lox them up and throw away the key!
Parents, you have been warned. Now that this ridonkulously easy recipe is public knowledge, the world of culinary seduction just got a little easier. All those innocent girls yearning to spread their wings shall descend upon the bait laid out for them. Once they’ve had a taste of this forbidden fruit, all bets are off. I know that the Religious Right are gritting their teeth and preparing a contingency plan. Sorry, suckers. There’s nothing you can do now but pray really HARD. The rest of us will be cooking and BANGING really HARD. Read the rest of this entry »
October 4, 2015
Poof go the panties!
Some desserts inspire you to moan with pleasure. Others make you close your eyes and take in all the flavors. But there are some desserts so damn tasty that your underwear disappears. Meet these Frenchy French poached pears sure to set back the Celebrities Keep Your Panties On Organization a decade. As soon as the herpes harpies like Lindsay, Britney, and Paris take a bite, the upskirt paparazzi patrol will be out in force. My apologies for exposing the world to such villainy. But alas, you can use this dessert as a powerful Hail Mary in your arsenal when your date is resisting your bang campaign. Warning: Side effects will include your underwear vanishing too.
Total time: Approximately 25 minutes (or longer if you refrigerate overnight)
Projected cost: $7
Drinking buddy: Champagne
Ingredients (serves 2)
1. 1 cup cheap red wine
2. 1/2 cup white sugar
3. 2 pears
4. 1 lemon
5. 4 cloves
Peel, halve, and core the pears.
On med-low heat, pour in the wine and sugar. Zest the lemon and squeeze in the juice. Toss in the cloves. Bring to a boil, and then lower heat to a simmer.
Put the pear halves, flat end down, and poach for 10 minutes. Flip the pear halves over and poach the rounded halves for another 10 minutes. Remove the pears and reduce the wine sauce by half. Pour the sauce over the pears. You can either serve immediately with ice cream or refrigerate overnight and enjoy cold.
August 21, 2015
The Lady and the Trampy Scampi
I used to stamp my little feet as a child when someone called me a shrimp. It drove me batty that I wasn’t a “big kid”. Time changes everything. Call me a shrimp as an adult and I’ll thank you, and then fantasize about buttery, garlicky goodness. I am the first to admit that I’ll get trampy for shrimp scampi. A note to the ladies: you too can put a man like myself under your spell with this dish. There’s something amazing about cooking shellfish in this velvet sauce that grants the chef the power of mind control. It’s been that way ever since I stole the recipe from a heavily guarded underground vault in Switzerland. Sure I am wanted by Interpol, but I did it all for you, dear reader. Who loves ya? 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 »