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 »
People say scuffle like it’s a bad thing. Disorder and confusion in tight quarters is usually how banging is initiated. It goes back to the days of playing 30 seconds in the closet. Those first experiences that created your perfectly pervy personality are examples of the good kind of scuffle. No doubt, most of you have ended up with your tongue in someone’s mouth as a result of tight quarters like the doorway at some crowded party or the backseat of your friends Volkswagen. Random? Yes. Unexpected? Definitely. Awesome? You betcha! So bring on the scuffles with truffles. Truffle oil is like a love potion crafted by the love gods, yet available for a price at yuppie food banks such as Whole Foods. Worth every goddamn penny. The bottle shall create many future scuffles, that lead to shuffles into the nearest tight quarters.
Everyone’s cherry gets popped at some point, save for a few devout priests and nuns. But I wager even these noble and holy rollers have indulged in some sort of debauch. Chances are, these indulgences are of the oral nature. Get your mind out of the gutter; I’m talking about food, fool! Belgium monks once made the greatest beers and chocolate in the world. You can still honor God with an edible orgasm so long as you don’t touch yourself inappropriately while you imbibe. The rest of us sinners have carte blanche to sin carnally while eating pigishly. I reckon it’s about that time to pop pop POP your cherry jubilantly. You will feel like you were touched for the very first time after your first bite. By the second and third and last bite, you will be a filthy culinary nympho eager for more. Next!
Ingredients (serves 2):
1. 1 dash cinnamon
2. Vanilla ice cream
3. 1 tsp vanilla extract
4. 2 tbsp brown sugar
5. 8-OZ juice (chef’s choice)
6. 1 tsp cornstarch
7. 1/8 butter stick
8. 2 fat handfuls of cherries
Bring the juice in a saucepan to a slow simmer on medium heat. Add the butter, brown sugar, vanilla extract, and cinnamon. Scoop out a little of the sauce, mix with the cornstarch, and add back to the sauce and reduce (approx 5 min).
Remove the stem and pits from the cherries and throw them into the sauce, cooking until they soften and congeal to the sauce (approx 3 min). Scoop ice cream into bowls and crown with the jubilee, you jubilant bastard!