PINCH-YOUR-TUSH BABAGANOUSH

February 22, 2016
Ali Babaganoush and his forty thieving whores

Ali Babaganoush and his forty thieving whores

Yowch!  Sorry about that.  I thought I was pinching someone else’s ass.  But it felt so right to have my thumb and index finger sampling your goods.  Not bad at all.  Now that we’ve gotten past the whole digital sexual harassment woes, you hungry?  Figured the drooling, stomach growling and eye fucking my food had to mean something.  This spoiling eggplant came through in a pinch.  While I recommend cooking with fresh ingredients, we gotta make do in this flaccid economy.  Hence, we cook your meals at home and reap the randy rewards. Once roasted, this reborn eggplant brought joy to two very hungry, horny people.  Both of our tushes were pinched, spanked and a few things you don’t want to know about.

Total time: approximately 45 minutes

Projected cost: $5

Drinking Buddy: Crisp white wine

babaganoush prepIngredients (serves 2):

1. 1 dash cumin

2. 1 dash salt

3. 1 dash black pepper

4. 1 tbsp olive oil

5. 2 tbsp tahini (sesame paste)

6. 1 large eggplant

7. 2-3 pitas

8. ½ lemon juice

9. 1 handful parsley chopped

10. 2 garlic cloves chopped finely

11. 1 handful de-pitted kalamata olives

Step 1

Preheat oven to 350°F/175°C. Poke eggplant with a fork like a prison-shivving.  Throw the abused eggplant into the oven and cook until it softens (approx 30 min). Let the eggplant cool down, then split and scoop out the meat.

babaganoush eggplant

Step 2

Puree the cooked eggplant with lemon juice, tahini, parsley, olives, garlic, olive oil, salt, cumin and black pepper.

babaganoush assemble

Step 3

Cut the pita into little pie pieces and arrange around a plate.  Slap the babaganoush right in the middle and serve it up with some foreplay.

babaganoush pita

AddThis Social Bookmark Button


ROGER HER VODKA PENNE

September 28, 2015
Embrace the vodka on your plate and in your glass

Embrace the vodka on your plate and in your glass

This Italian mafia recipe will never sleep with the fishes.  This vodka penne is “a friend of mine” because it’s tasty and easy to prepare.  The only thing getting whacked is the pig used to make the prosciutto.  Lucky you.  Be sure to remind your date knows how lucky they are to enjoy this fine dish from the old country.  The vodka flatters the tomatoes and garlic with compliments, plus you can challenge your date to take shots while you cook. Think you can make an easier, tastier vodka penne from scratch?  Forget about it! Read the rest of this entry »


TRAMPY SCAMPI

August 21, 2015
The Lady and the Trampy Scampi

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 »


POKE YER PICCATA

July 14, 2015

chicken-piccata-served2I see you poking around my business.  You could at least buy me dinner first.  Or better yet, cook for me!  Make me some Italian comfort food and I might just put out.  No promises though.  You still have to woo me. But just want to put it out there that poking my piccata is a possibility.  Just play it cool and don’t act a fool.  Behold this simplified and slightly healthier version of the chicken piccata that takes all of 20 minutes to whip up for who ever is down.  This recipe was born after a particularly exhausting round of bedroom acrobatics that left my tantric trapeze partner and I famished.  I recreated my favorite piccata dish from my childhood using repressed memories and innovation.  Thank god for those frozen chicken breasts stuck to the bottom of my freezer.  That protein boosted me back into top form for another round of aerial maneuvering around the bedroom.  To this day, I have no idea why there are clowns and a lion tamer in my bedroom.  I’m not THAT kinky! Read the rest of this entry »


MUY MACHO PAPAYA GAZPACHO

July 7, 2015

Sweet, spicy, totally macho.

I know what you’re thinking. How could a cold fruity summer soup be so macho? I’m glad you asked. The flavors don’t dance delicately like a ballerina upon your tongue. Fuck no! They river-dance to speed metal all over that tongue of yours with more flavors than you can shake your genitals at. Walls will bust open like the Kool-Aid Man’s back for revenge. Your date won’t wait for permission to ravish you. Mediterranean nymphs shan’t flutter, but grind into your ears with rubber mini-skirts. Does that answer your question? Read the rest of this entry »


MR. MORNING MAGIC HOUR

January 9, 2015
He will massage your mornings and satiate your soul.

He will massage your mornings and satiate your soul.

Your mornings will never be the same once Mr. Morning Magic Hour takes control.  He is sure to wow and might even sing opera classics if you ask nicely.  The date you hosted is catching up on asleep after an exhausting night of physical activity.  You wore ‘em out being incendiary in the sack.  Your plan is to keep it going all afternoon and into the evening, but you both need fuel for that triumph.  So bring the delectable lunatic lothario out of retirement and serve him up on a plate.  Sure you could serve the same ingredients on a plate without the face, but why? You might as well become a eunuch and expire watching CSPAN.  Bring some flare back to breakfast and let Mr. Magic out of his cage.  AVE MARIA!!! Read the rest of this entry »


NEVER A BORSCHT IN THE SACK

December 17, 2014
Sexy commies gone vegan! Don't tell Stalin...

Sexy commies gone vegan! Don’t tell Stalin…

Hello, comrades!  I speak of course to the Russian women I have had the pleasure of.  There is something about that accent that brings up all my childhood Cold War fears and translates them into lust.  No doubt, their Soviet bloc childhoods taught them how to survive so they are as tough as they are hot.  Not a wilting flower in the bunch.  Banging someone tougher than you are can challenge your ego.  But I welcome the challenge since the payoff makes my babushka spin.  What better way to lure them in than the classic Russian dish, borscht?  This Commie red soup hits the spot and nourishes the people.  Even if your culinary conquest isn’t Russian, make them your comrade for the night.  I’m back in the USSR! Read the rest of this entry »