Go ahead, drink up that mystical gypsy potion!
The sound of castanets and Flamenco guitar riffs echo through the streets. I see a momentary flash of a beautiful figure in a black dress sauntering towards, and then she’s gone. Carmen? Is that you again? It seems that every time I eat Spanish tapas and drink sangria she appears. That unattainable Spanish hard body has been haunting my subconscious ever since I first laid eyes on her in a bar in Valencia. There I was, the gringo in the corner of the Spanish nightclub sipping my first sangria. Carmen crossed the room towards me, took my glass and downed it, then led me onto the dance floor. She wrapped on leg around my hip and I melted. The filthy suggestions she breathed heavily into my ear in her native tongue sent my mind skitso. Carmen sent me for one last round of sangria. When I eagerly returned she had vanished. To this day I don’t know if she was real or a hallucination brought on by a sangria overdose. That is why I make sangria now. Perhaps Carmen will return or, at the very least, I can turn the woman I serve it to into Carmen…for the night. Read the rest of this entry »
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Cook To Bang - Recipes To Get You Laid 