First, I would like to apologize for my prolonged absence. Madness has finally ensued in my currently living situation and to all those around me, I delivered a magnificent performance of “I am Sven! Hear me roar”. There was chest pounding and grunting and the whole bit, so the recovery of such an episode has resulted in numerous angry/apologetic e-mails. In short, I haven’t stopped typing for the past three days. . . this outburst is going to cost me carpal tunnel syndrome.
So now that apologies and expressions of heartfelt frustration which led up to said events, I am in my kitchen baking individual sized cheesecake cups. The grocery store was out of vanilla wafers so for the bottom I used shortbread cookies, disaster or delicious? We’ll see in fifteen minutes. I hate to get all Julie and Julia on you (by the by, not too impressed with that particular piece of cinema) but after a weekend of watching XXX parodies with some friends, I figure I can do my own XXX parody of a blog about cooking.
Here goes nothing.
About a year ago I was with my ex, we’ll call him Simon-Pier – his stripper name. . .you can see this is gonna be good – and I was preparing a lovely salmoned trout on a bed of spinach, drizzled with a balsamic and maple syrup reduction. All of this is very romantic, as I say “The way to a mans’ heart may very well be through his stomach, yet it’s also an efficient route to his pants. I always suggest that if you plan on fucking after a meal, make sure the meal isn’t too rich (avoid excessive amounts of cheese, for example) you don’t want to be feeling tired and bloated, because that just leads to lazy gastric sex, and there is nothing sexy about a bloated stomach, gas and laziness in bed. Much unlike sex, these things should be saved until after marriage.
Back to my trout filet. . .
Preparing a piece of fish is much like preparing oneself for sexual activity. The first step involved is cleanliness, if any one thing is missing in this equation, it should not be hygiene. Shit, shower and shave! It should all be taken care of, prior to sex. So clean the fish in cold water, remove the skin (unless you are like myself and enjoy that additional crispy layer.) Prepare in a small bowl two tablespoons of hazlenut oil, four tablespoons of sundried tomato pesto, along with a large pinch of rosemary and another of chopped thyme. Set aside to begin the balsamic and maple syrup reduction. Super easy, combine equal parts maple syrup and balsamic vinegar in a small pot and stir frequently on medium high until bubbling, then allow for it to simmer on low heat. Prepare the frying pan with a dash of olive oil and crank up the heat to maximum, preheat the oven to 250. Sear the filets for about three minutes each side then spread the sundried tomato pesto mixture even on each filet and drizzle with the balsamic reduction. Place the filets (now on a baking sheet) into the oven for fifteen minutes. Serve on a bed of baby spinach and drizzle with a bit more of the sweet balsamic reduction.
Sounds fabulous, doesn’t it?
After having tasted this meal, Simon-Pier and I were feeling particularly randy. He on the other hand liked to make me wait and watch me get even hornier and more frustrated by the waiting game. I forgot to suggest making an extra amount of the reduction, for obvious reasons. As I was putting away the dishes, he asks me to come to the table where is is sitting with the remaining reduction. He very firmly instructs me to place my dick in the reduction and he takes his sweet time coating it with the, now lukeward, vinegar and syrup combination. This of course leading to the stickiest, sweetest and hottest blowjob of life. Best part, I didn’t have to do anything, I just had to follow instructions to keep my hands behind my back and enjoy. At one point, I was sitting on a bar stool and got the lapdance of a lifetime to Edwyn Collins, A Girl Like You. I feel as though I should be writing to the gay kama sutra about this. All the while with my hands behind my back. Not once were hands involved, just balsamic and syrup reduction, tongues, ass and barstools. . .there may have been an apron involved.
If ever you have not had sex in the kitchen, insure that you are the one preparing the dish prior to, because the thank you that you will receive is well worth the trip to the market. If my former roommate ever reads this, don’t worry, I cleaned the kitchen from top to bottom. . . no pun intended.
What happenned to my stripper ex by the name of Simon-Pier you may ask? More on that next time. My cheesecakes are done!
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