!Food Flash! Anthony Bourdain Expresses Interest in Torturing, Fucking, and Eating Dick Cheney

!Food Flash!

“But you promised me puppies and chocolate bars if I got in the van”

Anthony Bourdain recently made an on stage appearance at Brooklyn’s The Great GoogaMooga Festival and took questions from the audience.  Being the consummate entertainer that he is, Anthony waxed poetic about burning down the Olive Garden, implying Paula Deen is a racist, and articulating how he would eat a unicorn. *Spoiler Alert* he’d use the horn as a toothpick after the meal. Good times.

His most entertaining/alarming comments were to do with cannibalism. An audience member posed a bizarre hypothetical situation: if he and Bourdain were trapped in a cave, would Bourdain eat him? “Fuck yeah,” Bourdain said. He added that if they were trapped on a boat with a bunch of his chef friends and this guy wasn’t pulling his weight, he would have no problem cooking him as a slow braise. Bourdain was asked straight up if he would eat a human. “Yes, yes, I fucking would.” It wouldn’t be his first option though — he’d eat a bag of Doritos first.

When someone later asked Bourdain which person he would most like to deep fry, he had a well thought out answer. First, he would waterboard Dick Cheney. Then he would deep fry his head, fuck him up the ass and then he’d cook him.

I think if I ever got to the point where I had Dick Cheney in a position to fuck him up the ass I would choose not to cook him and ruin the gift. I’d go back to that Dick Cheney sex well again and again. Just imagine unlimited ass sex with Dick Cheney, be still my beating heart. I bet if I played my cards right I could manipulate him into forming a loving, lasting relationship with me and we could engage in meaningful, romantic sex instead of forced ass raping. Though it would be weird introducing him to my parents, what with the deep fried head and all.

!Food Flash! Jamie Oliver Talks Smack About Eating Genitals

!Food Flash!

“The Naked Chef likes to eat a little Pukka Tukka if you know what I mean…”

Celebrity chef Jamie Oliver is done with eating genitals. In an interview with CNN Jamie states:“To be honest, the food that makes me really cringe is just like balls, bumholes, penises,” Oliver told CNN. “I’ve eaten most of them and they’re not good. Just go for a steak, don’t go for the balls.”

Jamie’s statement came only a week after CNN’s corporate cafeteria menu was completely overhauled. Cost cutting measures due to poor ratings for the one time powerhouse 24 hour news station, have forced the company to find more affordable cuts of meat. Included in the staff offerings are Genital Tso’s Chicken, Cock au Vin, Butt Nut Squash Soup, and special for happy hour, Food & Dink magazine’s award winning Bourbon with Balls cocktail.

Too bad his name isn’t Jamie Balliver. That would have tied shit up nice.

Carnitas

DRINKING: Modelo Negro

INSPIRED BY: “Little Meat’s” unfortunate drug bust

SERVED WITH: Homemade corn tortillas and taco sundry

SPECIAL TOOLS: Tortilla press

BACKGROUND NOISE: Frank Ocean – nostalgia, ULTRA (2011)

“Meaty taco”

When I was a boy we had a Mexican kid on our block whose parents would affectionately refer to as “Carnita”. To us, carnita was simply a weird Spanish name that none of us understood, we never thought to question it. When we began high school it became apparent that carnita meant “little meat”, a worse nickname could not be had, save “tiny dick”, or “baby penis”.

“Carnita” was a small kid, so his frequent schoolyard battles mostly consisted of him hoping to get the best of a kid his own age, or, getting his nose bloodied by the older boys. His chances with the ladies were completely out of the question as any girl that had got close enough to form a relationship with Carnita was quickly labeled as a lover of small dicks. This existence was certainly a living hell, one that most assuredly affected his personal development.

He dropped out of school before senior year and left town, moving in with his cousin a six -hour drive away. Over the next few years I saw Carnita when he came back for family events or holidays. It seemed the move had put him in better spirits. Careful not to refer to him as Carnita, we talked about how he was running a grow op, selling weed to college kids in his town, and making a fortune doing it.

Soon after I found out he had been busted trying to sell large amounts of pot to an undercover cop. The judge made an example out of him and sentenced Carnita to a lengthy stay in prison. Being of slight build, coupled with his unflattering moniker, he didn’t stand a chance in the big house.

The last I heard, inmates had given him a new nickname – “Culo Carnita”, or, Little Ass Meat”. Not good. But this recipe for crispy pork carnitas is good. Do it for Carnita!

TRICKS & TIPS: A tortilla press can be purchased online for $20. There are three types available: wood, cast iron, and aluminum. DO NOT purchase the aluminum press. I have broken two of the aluminum versions, yet I still have my cast iron press after 10 years. Wood is also fine, but quite large.

Cook your tortillas in a dry preheated cast iron pan or flat bottomed griddle, be sure to season your pan immediately after use as the high, dry heat burns off some of the precious pan seasoning.

If you don’t have a tortilla steamer, use a bowl lined with paper towel, covered with a damp rag. Do not allow damp rag to have contact with the tortillas or they will become wet and wrinkled.

Asparagus Envy

“This is a nice, tight stalk with a hard purple head.”

I went asparagus picking over the weekend and was pleasantly surprised with what I found. It all started earlier in the week when, while looking through the classified section of the newspaper for some action, I saw the advertisement headline – “Asparagus Picking”. I continued to read the short blurb – “Looking for a good time this weekend? Want a release from the daily stress? The Farmer’s Daughter guarantees a happy ending to your week with fresh Asparagus picking”. Loving fresh asparagus as I do, I smiled and called the number from the ad. A quiet voice with an French accent answered the phone and softly said “Hello”. “Is this the Farmer’s Daughter”? I asked. “Yes it is, who is this”? she answered. “I got your number from the classified section of the newspaper, I’m calling about the asparagus picking”. I sensed a smile in her voice as she replied, “Of course you are, it’s $40 an hour and I’ll be here all weekend. When will you be coming to see me”? she asked. “Does Sunday afternoon work? I can be there around 3pm”. “Sunday afternoon works delightfully well” she answered. “Oh, one more thing, the forecast is for rain and it tends to get a little dirty here so come prepared to get wet” she giggled and hung up the phone.

I awoke late on Sunday after a night out with friends, jumped in the shower and headed to the address on the outskirts of town. There was a light sprinkling of rain but nothing that would hinder the task at hand. I could hardly wait to enjoy some fresh asparagus, it had been too long! I pulled up to the farm gate and turned down the dirt road leading to the house. The Farmer’s Daughter was in the front yard tending to her gardening. I got out of the car and opened my umbrella. “Oh put that thing away, you’re going to want to use both your hands and besides I’m already wet and I don’t want to be the only one” she chuckled. She was wearing a pair of tight overalls with only one of the straps clasped together. Her white tank top was moist from the rain and a little dirty from working in the garden. I could make out the shape of her farm toughened hard body through her shirt as the wet white cotton clung close to her petite frame.

I put the umbrella back into the boot and joined her as she walked towards the barn. “Where are the asparagus”? I asked. “The beds are just behind the barn. Have you ever done this before”? she asked. “No”, I said, “one of my buddies told me about it. He says its a great way to get a break from his wife and have some relaxing time to himself”. “I’ll go easy on you then”, she promised, “give you the nice and slow lesson”. “Sounds grand” I said.

She led me to the asparagus beds behind the barn. I was getting very excited but at the same time a little nervous as I had never done this before and I didn’t want to come off as being inexperienced. “Here we are”, she said, “you can probably take off your jacket as I don’t want it to get in the way, besides its only spitting out anyway. “Here, let me help”. She walked behind me and gently removed my coat, softly stroking off the beads of water before hanging it on a nail that was pounded into the side of the barn. “Now I want you to just relax and let me take charge”, she said as she got down on her knees, the asparagus shaft standing erect in front of her. She gently took the hard asparagus stalk in her wet hands, “Oh my, this is a beautiful specimen”. She ran one hand down to the base of the engorged stalk and gripped it with some tension. With her other hand she softly flicked the tip a few times, looking up to me with a smile, “this is a nice, tight stalk with a hard purple head, perfectly ripe for picking. I can hardly wait to put it in my mouth and have its juices explode on my tongue and run down the back of my throat”.

While she continued to grip the stalk at its base she used one of her fingers to gently poke into the tight brown dirt just beneath the asparagus shaft. Startled and a little curious I asked her why she was probing with her finger “I’m trying to loosen things up, just bear with me, I think you’ll find it to be worth it in the end. After all, I am the expert”. I agreed and greatly anticipated the release as she softly tugged on the asparagus pole. She now used both hands to firmly grasp the asparagus, looked me deep in the eyes and asked me if I was ready. The rain had started up again and we were both dripping wet, goosebumps were forming all over my body as I whispered “Yes, I am ready”. She bore down on the massive stalk and with expert precision she extracted the hard, wet asparagus shaft, and its bulging head from its roots. She brought the tip to her lips and placed it on her tongue while gently closing her mouth around the shaft. The head of the asparagus snapped off in her mouth, exploding its nectar onto her tongue, she savoured the juices, swirling them around in her mouth. She smiled and looked at me, the rain soaking her white tank top, glistening off her chest and neck, and said, “Now for my favourite part”, at which point she closed her eyes and swallowed the fresh essence from the asparagus head, letting them slide down the back of her throat. “Oh my god, that tasted wonderful”, she exclaimed. “You still have 45 minutes left in your hour so if you need another demonstration, I’ll just be around the corner”. Too bad asparagus are only in season for a few weeks a year.

!Food Flash! Bacon Lube Makes Sex Piggier

!Food Flash!

“And this little piggy went weee weee weee weee, all the way home”

I never heeded the warnings of cooking bacon naked. With so little left to live for, the one sure-fired way I have left to feel alive is to endure the smatterings of hot bacon fat landing randomly on my nude self with only the briefest “POP” as a warning of the impending pain. I guess I like it rough. I’ve even gone so far as to try and get my girlfriends to have a little sexy sexy time at the helm of a bacon spitting stove. To date, no takers.

Thanks to J&D’s Bacon Lube, I can now have the smell of freshly cooked bacon as I make sweet love to my partner. I only have to figure out how to hook up a car battery to my nipples to mimic the intermittent shock provided by spitting bacon grease.

Bacon Lube began as an elaborate April Fool’s joke. When the joke ended, people kept on asking for it, and Seattle-based owners Justin Esch and Dave Lefkow sensed a market opportunity.

Their J&D’s bacon lube, a water-based product is available for $11.99. “It’s the gold standard of meat-flavoured massage oils. It’s like the McRib of sex,” they say.

In a real life test of the product I summoned one of my “farmer’s daughter” type booty calls. She remarked that the bacon lube did, in fact, “smell and taste of bacon”, however, “in the end, I like my bacon a whole lot crispier”. Gross. God bless her.

If you want to fuck your sandwich, J&D also offers a ground breaking mayo product called Baconnaise. Whatever happens, I truly hope no one tries to market “Tuna Lube”.

Chile Relleno

DRINKING: Big brewery Mexican beer

INSPIRED BY: Cinco de Mayo

SERVED WITH: Roasted tomato sauce 

SPECIAL TOOLS: None

BACKGROUND NOISE: Chikita Violenta – TRE3S (2010)

“Vencer O Morir!”

Chile relleno hails from the Mexican state, Puebla, the only state in Mexico that celebrates the much vaunted Cinco de Mayo. Throughout the rest of North America, Cinco de Mayo is widely celebrated and often confused for Mexican Independence Day. There are a lot of things we have to thank beer companies for: funny commercials, sports sponsorships, bikini clad women, vacations from reality, a threesome at the Las Vegas Hilton, and of course, tasty beer. Add Cinco de Mayo to the list. Mexican beer companies have been ultra successful in marketing a mostly insignificant date in Mexican history to represent all that is Chicano in the US and Canada. It has now reached the cultural plateau of St. Patricks Day for the Irish, Oktoberfest for the Germans, and Easter for bunnies.

On the 5^th of May, 1862, the Mexican army won an miraculous victory over the dominant French forces at the Battle of Puebla. Outnumbered 2 to 1, the poorly equipped Mexican army, led by General Ignacio Zaragoza Seguin, resisted the French forces and held the city. One year later the French were able to defeat the Mexican army, capture Mexico City, and install their own ruler, Emperor Maximilian I. It was however, enough of a moral victory for the Mexican people to justify the brewers of Mexico to rally around this date and give it cause for celebration.

Every May 5^th , I make Chiles Relleno and celebrate the real reason Cinco de Mayo is significant, the Battle of Puebla. For me, the charring of the Poblano pepper represents my enemies badly burned in the battle. As I peel off the skin of the pepper I imagine I am skinning alive a French soldier who has just killed my family. I hear his screams of agony as I pull back his burnt flesh with my knife, discarding it onto the battlefield. Starting at his neck, I make an incision down to his belly button, and remove his innards, careful to keep him alive in the process and have him pay for his mortal sins. I replace his guts with the soil of my birthplace (the recipe calls for cheese), wrap him in blankets so his soul will not escape (a batter made with whipped egg whites), and toss him into burning oil so his family will never recognize him (deep fry to crisp the batter and melt the cheese). I then unceremoniously toss his body into a pool of his own blood (roasted tomato sauce), and leave him to be consumed by the vultures (my dinner guests).

Vencer O Morir!

Guacamole

DRINKING: Cerveza Pacifico Clara Pilsner

INSPIRED BY: Mariachi music

SERVE WITH: Salsa fresca, carnitas, fresh corn tortillas

SPECIAL TOOLS: None

BACKGROUND NOISE: José Alfredo Jiménez – Las 100 Clasicas

How an avocado is similar to male genitalia:

– Derived from the word ahuácatl, or, ballsack.

– Known by Aztecs as the fertility fruit.

– Deep within the fleshy “ballsack” resides a large seed.

– Also known as the “alligator pear”. (My penis’s nickname is “the gator”).

– Disease can affect the fruit, causing spotting, rotting, cankers, pitting and discoloration.

– A ripe avocado yields to gentle pressure when held in the palm of the hand and squeezed.

– The fruit is not sweet, but fatty, and distinctly yet subtly flavored, and of smooth, almost creamy texture.

– It is used as a rejuvenating facial cream.

– Fits well into a meaty taco.

– Grows best in moist, warm climates.

Enjoy your guacamole.

TRICKS & TIPS: Avocado quickly discolors when mixed with the outside world. To alleviate the browning process wait to make guacamole until just ready to serve. If you are unable to do so, store guacamole in a bowl with as little surface exposure as possible. Squeeze lime juice over the top of the avocado mixture and gently apply plastic wrap directly over the top, leaving no space between the guacamole and the plastic wrap.

If discoloration does occur, simply scrape off the top of the guacamole and discard. Mix until vibrant green.

Mash up only one of the avocados at the beginning of the recipe. Add the rest at the end in chunks so the avocado texture is preserved and not rendered to a creamy mess.

Refrain from squeezing the avocado to check for ripeness as it will damage the flesh. An avocado is ready to eat when you can easily pick off the remaining nub of stem at the top of the avocado with your fingernail.

Chunky Salsa Fresca

DRINKING: Cerveza Pacifico Clara Pilsner

INSPIRED BY: Mariachi music

SERVE WITH: Guacamole, carnitas, fresh corn tortillas

SPECIAL TOOLS: None

BACKGROUND NOISE: José Alfredo Jiménez – Las 100 Clasicas

“Short and sweet, like a shitty, puky, Drakkar Noir scented bee sting”.

On a recent trip to Mexico I fell victim to the vengeance of the Aztec ruler Montezuma. Whatever was done for him to exact this kind of revenge must have been formidable, and maybe a little perverse. The diverse mixture of street food, street women, street drugs, booze, and electricity consumed over the 24 hours leading up to my sickness makes it very difficult to tell the exact culprit. I do, however, remember a questionable tasting bowl of salsa that was stewing in the hot afternoon sun. So I’ll blame that.

For those of you who have experienced this traveler’s illness, prepare to relive the horrendous events. The first symptoms came on at dinner. I was at a beautiful seafood restaurant with friends. We had told the waiter to not bother with menus but rather have the chef cook up a feast of the freshest of that day’s catch. We ordered shots of tequila and beers all around. I did a shot of tequila and immediately started to feel woozy. I broke out into a cold sweat and became very uncomfortable with my place in the restaurant. The waiter emerged from the kitchen with a giant silver tray filled with shrimp, spiny lobster, ceviche, clams, calamari, and a variety of fish, all prepared with traditional methods and seasonings. It was the most beautiful seafood platter I had ever seen, and I am haunted by it to this day.

The table was cleared and room was made for the massive silver tray. My dining companions pounced on the veritable seafood buffet. In a tsunami of exoskeleton cracking, butter spraying, shell slurping, greasy fingered madness they began to consume the dish, while I sat and despondently stared at the fruits de mer marvel. Not being able to take it any longer I decided to push through the sickness and took a bite of a giant, bacon wrapped, shrimp. No sooner had I swallowed the delight than I had to excuse myself from the table and visit the restroom. I hovered, bent at the waist over the toilet, praying to rid myself of the feverish sickness and return victorious, joining my comrades in enjoying the spoils of the sea. It was not to be. I spent the rest of dinner in an agony filled bathroom stall dancing the Aztec two step, aka, shitting profusely.

I was retrieved from the bathroom and hustled into a waiting cab. It was unfortunate for me the destination of the cab was not the comfort of my hotel room where I could recover, but a good old fashioned alfresco Mexican whore house. Coaxed by my friends that fresh air was key to my recovery I dragged myself to join them at a private table in the courtyard. A bevy of chubby Mexican girls soon appeared from the shadows carrying trays of beer, cigarettes, and massage oils. One by one my companions disappeared into the night until I was left alone with one of the Spanish only speaking Mexican prostitutes.  Language skills should not have been a barrier for her to notice that neither of us should want me as a customer this evening. I lay my head on the table resting on crossed arms and felt her massage my shoulders and neck. What harm could this do I thought to myself and didn’t resist. She progressively moved down my back and made moves for a reach around. I politely declined her offer, she responded by politely declining my declination and continued to try and undo the zipper on my pants. I puked all over her and the table. She shrieked and ran into the bordello. Moments later a cab pulled up and I was ushered out by an irate manager.

Upon my return to the hotel I went directly to the toilet and continued my horrific diarrhea experience. At one point I was simultaneously shitting and puking into the garbage can. It was quite an event as it continued throughout the night. During one episode, I knocked my roommates bottle of Drakkar Noir onto the tile floor, resulting in the addition of broken glass and a years worth of cologne smelling up the room to what ailed me. I spent the next day convalescing in a non – air – conditioned hotel room. It was pretty awesome! Thankfully, I was able to move poolside the following day and back in action that night. Short and sweet, like a shitty, puky, Drakkar Noir scented bee sting.

Back in the first world I decided to debunk the myth of Montezuma’s Revenge. It turns out that Montezuma himself had very little to do with what happened to me that evening and it was more likely a sanitation issue. In 2002, a study appearing in the journal Annals of Internal Medicine, found that 66% of the salsas tested from restaurants in Mexico were contaminated with E coli bacteria. The researchers found that the salsas contained fecal contaminants possibly as a result of improper refrigeration of the Mexican sauces. I agree with this finding as who in their right mind would take a shit in the fridge!? I have a new study for the Annals of Internal Medicine, send some scientists down to my hotel room in Mexico, I bet its like 91% contaminated with fecal matter. Stupid Montezuma.

TIPS AND TRICKS: It is useful to seed the tomatoes before dicing as it cuts down on the bitterness from the seeds and sogginess from the extra juice. Simply cut the tomatoes in half and dig out the guts with your fingers.

Milder white onions as opposed to yellow or red will give the fresh salsa less bite and overpowering onion taste.

For a spicier salsa, leave some of the jalapeno seeds intact and add them to the mix.

Be sure to refrigerate until use and keep away from all fecal matter.

Asparagus Soup

DRINKING: Sauvingnon Blanc

INSPIRED BY: U-pick asparagus farm

SERVE WITH: Crusty bread

SPECIAL TOOLS: Blender

BACKGROUND NOISE: City and Colour – Little Hell (2011)

“Asparagus – The Wee Pee Tree”

When I make this soup I like to take the trimmings, add a little water, and make a stock out of the parts that would normally go into the compost bin. I then use them as a replacement for the vegetable stock. That way I feel better about using the whole vegetable and it briefly takes my mind away from all the starving children in Africa. I feel like I’m doing my part, but am I? Can I take this any further? Yes I can.

Within ten minutes of eating the phallic green spears, our pee begins to smell like reconstituted asparagus. We’ve all been there, taking a piss when all of a sudden that pungent waft of grassy perfume hits us in the face. Our breathing stops, our eyes widen, our mind races; then comes the relief that death is in fact not upon us, but that yes, we had eaten asparagus at some point that day. Phew!

The next time I eat asparagus I’m going to piss into a Ziploc bag and freeze it for future use in this asparagus soup recipe. When I get to the step that I am to add the vegetable stock, out from the freezer comes my lovely little bag of eau d’asperge and into the soup pot it goes. After the meal, I will encourage my guests to take Ziploc bags into the toilet and do likewise.  My asparagus stock inventory will grow exponentially. Eventually, I will have enough that I can construct a farm gate outside my front door and sell it to the world. Then I’ll finally be able to quit my job and live high on the hog. My legacy will be that of the human recycler.

TRICKS & TIPS: Leeks have a tendency to be very dirty. When cleaning leeks, slice off the tough green tops and the very white bottoms. Cut them in half lengthwise and submerge in cold water, giving them a good shake under the water.

Be careful when blending hot liquids. Do not overfill the blender.  Start at a slow speed and work your way up. Failure to do so can result in a volcano like effect, with hot liquid blinding your eyes and melting your face.

!Food Flash! Man Flashes Genital “Whopper” At Burger King Drive Thru

!Food Flash!

“Sexual Deviants, Have It Your Way!”

A Longmont, Colorado Burger King employee is credited with taking a drunken sexual deviant off the streets. Richard Troupe pulled into the Burger King Drive Thru at 3am, clearly intoxicated. When 24-year old Burger King employee, Jennifer Scott, asked if she could help him she noticed he was not wearing any pants and was holding his genitals. Troupe replied by asking her if she’d like to hold his “Whopper.”

Jennifer politely declined the offer to hold the stranger’s genital “Whopper” and promptly called police. The 52-year old Troupe is now facing charges of drunk driving and indecent exposure.

To Jennifer, I say maybe she was too quick to call the cops. I think I saw this gag at a performance of Puppetry of the Penis. It’s quite possible that not all “genital Whoppers” are meant to be sexual. It could be art. Longmont, Colorado and Jennifer Scott hate art.