Recipes For Love: Confessions of a Sensual Foodie

Posted on March 31, 2012 by foodie

“Cooking is like love. It should be entered into with abandon or not at all.”

~ Harriet Van Horne

Once Upon a Time

Last year I began this food blog. It was something to write about among other writings, such as personal essays, fiction, and poetry. Writing about one of my greatest pleasures, food, soon became my passion. So I followed my heart. I had forgotten all about the few years that I spent in culinary school, learning French classic cooking and pastry. That was when I was in my early twenties and single. I did it to learn how to cook, not to become a chef. I learned basic knife skills, and the marvels of butter. But in rediscovering this pleasure of mine, I began to cook more often, until it boiled over into an obsession.

When my children were babies, I made their baby food. Avocados are plentiful in California and make a perfect baby meal. Bananas, of course, are easy to mash. But how about blending up a ripe mango with Greek yogurt? If I had the chance make their food fresh, I did. In some cases it’s not easy to do, when you are busy. Soon my local farmers market became a regular visit for fresh produce.

Grocery shopping on Sundays was just the kind of simple pleasure I enjoyed. More than spending the day in a bookstore, which I also found relaxing, I loved wandering through the market, lingering over the farmers’ tables full of rotund and happy tomatoes, fragrant red strawberries, dewy lettuces, feathery green herbs, feeling the heat of the sunlight on my skin, walking through the crowd of people, eating from the food stalls, delicious things like roasted corn on the cob, baked yams, tamales, empanadas — all the smells, sensations and colors, it encouraged impromptu menus and the inspiration to cook to my heart’s content. I must have seemed a mad woman to my children, carting them along in the morning, coming home with the overflowing bags of farm fresh produce after the market, chopping away in the kitchen for many hours of the afternoon, putting together a feast for dinner. Sunday was my only day to really, truly cook.

Or un-cook. For a brief period of that time, right after giving birth to my third child, I had the grand idea of going raw and vegan. I was already vegetarian. So going raw and vegan wasn’t that much of a leap. I was eating lots of nuts, seeds, avocados, collard leaves and kale. Almond milk was fun to make, but… I’m a grumpy gal when on a strict or restrictive sort of diet. I need eggs. And I don’t think I can live without butter. Cream and dairy are delicious. And oh, the grand glory of really good cheese. Soon I fell off the raw food wagon.

I wasn’t doing much of anything in the kitchen during the week as I was working a job I didn’t want to do anymore. Well, I’m still doing that, but I’m in transition, a life change, seeking a new direction, following my heart. I have to work to support my family, all with my one income, so there is little time for pleasure. Frazzled, worn out, exhausted, worried about paying the overdue bills.

But indulge me for a moment and let me talk about this in past tense. Because soon, very soon, The Sensual Foodie will be my full-time passionate career. It may seem like a dream, but I dare to follow my bliss.

You see, last year when I started this blog, cooking and dining for pleasure was almost fantasy. After the long workday, I’d come home to my three children and piece together some semblance of dinner. Most of the time it was a cobbled together casserole or quiche. I didn’t have time to make a homemade quiche crust so I’d buy a pre-made one (which I had on hand in the freezer). I’d whip together the filling with eggs and hope the thing came out edible. It was hardly sensual and not quite how I’d imagined my life to be at that point. I waited out the week for my marketing Sunday to cook and eat a leisurely meal. What I craved was a positive change. So the blog was created. I wanted food adventures, explorations, pleasures.

I Dream of a Garden with Chickens and Eggs

I imagined a garden outside my kitchen window, a few chickens roaming free in the backyard for fresh eggs. Eggs for omelettes, frittatas, quiches and cakes, or just a simple poached egg and toast. In this beautiful imaginary life, there would be a lovely place to put a table outside, maybe under a shady tree, and have friends join us for home cooked meals. I had visions of the kids digging in the garden, planting vegetables and herbs. I imagined the joy and wonder on their faces when the plants sprouted from the soil, and the pride they might have in eating what they grew. That source of enjoyment in nature just might replace video games and cartoons. Possibly. Well, I might be dreaming wildly there, but I want to teach them how to bake a cake, how to grow things, and how to enjoy the pleasures of food.

But reality can be as cold as a frozen TV dinner. I’ve been living in a cramped two-bedroom apartment in this big city of Los Angeles. I sleep in the living room so the kids can have their own bedrooms. I have a tiny balcony that doesn’t get much sunlight, if at all. Even worse, I make due with an electric stove and range top. My clay pots have ugly rings on their bottoms from the coil of the burners and the oven under bakes everything. The kitchen is the size of a ship galley, only fitting one person comfortably. And I’m rarely home to do much cooking and baking. But somehow, I figure out a way to cook when the chance presents itself. By writing the blog, I had pushed myself into making time to cook, eat, enjoy. I roasted vegetables and made clay pots full of delicious soup.

“I want a little sugar in my bowl / I want a little sweetness down in my soul…” ~ Bessie Smith

I wanted someone to cook with me. But how could a couple cook together in such a tiny kitchen? My (former) relationship (at this time last year) wasn’t going well and we weren’t cooking together. I urged him to try to cook with me on Sundays, but we didn’t, and that was recipe for an argument. He said he didn’t know how to cook for me. I picked at what he did make, suspiciously poking at the overcooked vegetables. He’d then mope about and slam the oven shut. Pots and pans clanged as he washed them. I was snarly. He was sullen. It all went sour from there. It was clear that the broth of our relationship wasn’t good enough to make the soup. The proof was in the pudding, as the saying goes. Because of this, I wasn’t in the best of spirits, and the kitchen reflected all of our woes. I was ignoring my state of unhappiness and pretending that all was well, just like adding salt to a dish to make it taste better. And I wanted a little sugar in my bowl.

To add to the stew, I had also begun an early menopause at the ripe age of forty-one years old. Hot flashes, night sweats, insomnia. I couldn’t tolerate red wine anymore, particularly Chianti. It gave me heart palpitations. Hormonal changes kept me from enjoying a glass of wine! Believe me, this is true suffering. My one comfort: a big jammy, juicy glass of red.

“How beautiful life is when it gives us riches.” ~ Frida Kahlo

My acupuncturist, Dr. Maoshing Ni, gave me medicinal herbs in a tea blend. He also gave me a list of “yin nourishing” foods to eat. I made the connection of aphrodisiacs and healing Chinese herbs and thought there must be something to it. In fact, my acupuncturist suggested that I eat oysters. Oysters! Aphrodisiacs could also be for wellness and vitality, not just for inspiring romance.

Some Day My Darling Will Come

So I’ll tell you about how I met my Darling. I didn’t use an aphrodisiac or love elixir to charm him. No, love happened at a time in my life when I wasn’t expecting it to find me.

In the midst of all the difficulty, I found solace in writing, cooking and eating. I started exploring recipes and writing about food. But what I didn’t realize was that by posting my thoughts online via my food blog, with the saucy title The Sensual Foodie, I was conjuring up a cyber font love spell to seduce the man of my dreams.

Darling read my blog and admired my writing. He wrote. I responded. We direct messaged, then we emailed. I called him. We talked for hours. I forgot to run errands that day and I cancelled work appointments.

I didn’t know it then, but I had found the love of my life.

Thanks to my acupuncturist (Dr. Mao, my cupid) and his list of foods to nourish my “yin essence,” namely oysters, I was exploring aphrodisiacs, herbs, spices, and became immensely curious about many foods I had avoided out of sheer vegetarian stubbornness. At the top of my list of things to eat were: (yes) oysters, shellfish, and a variety of herbs and spices that were beneficial to a woman’s health.

There were also other things bubbling in my mind. I could not stop my milk from foaming over about this man who admired my writing. I was intrigued by his photo with a chicken foot in his mouth. Who could imagine that I’d fall for a man with a chicken foot in between his lips? Now he’s the honey in my tea, sweetening everything.

True Love’s Kiss

“I never knew it could be like this. Nobody ever kissed me the way you do.” ~ From Here to Eternity

It was a sunny Friday afternoon when Darling and I met. It was also National Oyster Day. The “aphrodisiac oyster” was a playful foodie innuendo we teased about through emails and phone calls, here and there, about the oyster and its supposed powers for lovemaking, and maybe it was the reason we chose to finally meet. Well, I’m making it out to be a theme, but it wasn’t really. It was just a little flirtatious joke. As you may know, the oyster is considered the main aphrodisiac that most imagine for seduction. Of course we talked about many things, not just aphrodisiacs.

And I had never tried an oyster in my life.

So after many hours of writing messages to each other that day, he decided, spontaneously, to just finally come meet me in my work studio. My stomach fluttered with anticipation! It was three in the afternoon and he was on his way over. My heart thumping away as I hurried to make myself look pretty despite the fact that I was caught in my sweaty gym clothes with an empty office fridge. What kind of foodie was I with an empty refrigerator? So I rushed off quickly to the market and bought some good cheese, apples, a baguette, fleur de sel chocolate, and champagne.

He knocked on the door, and I opened it to see this tall, handsome man standing there. Without a moment’s pause he swept me into his arms and kissed me. It was a kiss I will never forget so long as I live. A storybook kiss, sudden and passionate, a soul satisfying true love’s kiss, the kind of kiss that awakened Sleeping Beauty and the very sort of kiss that consummates all romantic films.

And so we began with a fairytale kiss. It was then that I realized what true love is and you might say it was love at first sight (or kiss) for me. As nervous as a schoolgirl, I offered him my fancy French chocolate and champagne, of which he had a tiny morsel of the fleur de sel chocolate and a sip or two of the bubbly. But it was just that kiss that worked its magic, without herbs, spices, or any other aphrodisiac, except love.

Before that kiss, I wasn’t sure if I’d find love. I’d had hints and ideas, many romances, a marriage, a divorce, and another long relationship after that which wasn’t working out. I also had three children. My life was scattered between pick up and drop off times, baseball practices, school plays, and other motherly events. I began to think that romantic love wasn’t meant to be. What was real honest-to-goodness true love? Did it really exist? Or was it some fictitious concept made grand by all the novelists and storytellers of historical past? Poets could not write romantic words without it. And I was a hopeless romantic at one time— a poet, a writer. I even considered writing romance novels! But disappointments had dulled the sparkle in my eye. I didn’t want to admit that I was becoming cynical, scoffing at love quotes and syrupy greeting cards. I thought perhaps I was becoming more of a realist, not thinking about the idea of true love or whatever I thought it was. I had become used to “almost” and as a result, I gave up on the notion that I’d ever meet that special someone that made my heart rise like a glorious soufflé.

“They call me oven, say that I’m red hot / They say I’ve got somethin’ the other gals ain’t got / I can strut my pudding, spread my grease with ease / ‘Cause I know my onions, that’s why I always please.”

~ Nellie Florence, “Jacksonville Blues”

But there isn’t a single recipe to make someone fall in love with you. No magical potion, aphrodisiac, elixir or tincture exists. There is a way, however, to live passionately. I truly believe that following one’s heart is the way and being a passionate person brings us unexpected gifts. It can also attract that special someone to you. When we are inspired, we are open, receptive to wonderful things, alive. And that is how I felt, awakened by my own true love’s kiss. Darling made me feel alive and inspired.

I was so inspired by my Darling that I decided to write a cookbook about being a sensual foodie. It’s about passion, for love, life, and aphrodisiacs to inspire. Not just for love, but for our vitality.

“You so sweet you whet my appetite / You make me hungry I just want to get a bite / You resist me baby but I’ll get you yet / There’s one thing I know: sugar melts when it’s wet / Oh, baby, you make my sweet tooth ache.” ~ Albert Collins, “Sugar Melts When it’s Wet”

A Little of What You Fancy Does You Good

Aphrodisiacs are good for you. There are many Chinese herbs that support sexual health and increase “qi” or “life force energy” which is essential for our overall well-being. In Eastern medicine, our sexual energy is our good health. There is no separation between sexuality, health and life. Good chi is sexy.

Here is a recipe from Isabel Allende’s wonderful book, Aphrodite: Memoir of the Senses, a little excerpt discovered on page 123:

APHRODISIAC SOUP OF ACUPUNCTURE MASTER

For two, you place in a beautiful clay flameproof casserole, with due ceremony:

4 pieces of red Korean ginseng

1/4 of a chicken, in pieces

2 chives, minced

4 slices fresh ginger

2 tablespoons red or white miso

Cook over a slow fire until the chicken is tender, meanwhile, reading an erotic text, and at the end add 1/2 cup of sake and 6 raw prawns, shelled and deveined, which, in order to preserve their potency, should not be allowed to boil any longer than 5 minutes.

So my sugar bowl overfloweth.

I have someone to cook with, to eat with, to love. And so, The Sensual Foodie is full of passion! Love, pleasure and cooking together. Dining, drinking wine, and kissing until we simmer, froth, boil, and melt into one another in a pot full of love.

He’s the cream in my tea, the jelly in my roll. He’s the sparkle in my champagne and the sugar in my bowl. He’s my joy, my love, my darling love. And I’m so happy.

“One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well.” ~ Virginia Woolf

All the stories on this blog have developed from my dinners out with my Darling. We’ve also been cooking together, and sometimes he surprises me with dinner he’s made, or a pink pastry box full of guava and cream cheese pie, or a container full of mango sticky rice. It’s a wonderful dream come true. He’s made my life a big bowl full of cherries, refilling it when I eat them, and tossing away the pits. I’m so lucky. I’ve found the love of my life. I’m following my passion, and I am writing about food and pleasure. It’s a bon appétit recipe for love!

The Sensual Foodie is an adventure in the pleasures of food, love and life.

Aphrodisiacs for Love, Wellness and Vitality.

Aphrodisiacs, Spicy Thai BBQ, and the Ginger Pork Curry

Posted on March 23, 2012 by foodie

It was hidden away in a strip mall just East of the 101 freeway in a neighborhood that is a melting pot of Little Armenia and East Hollywood Thai Town. An area of Los Angeles that I’d drive through and never think to stop for anything. But if I had passed it by, I’d never experience the magical influence of the ginger pork curry.

Disguised by its drab exterior, this tiny place was a shining jewel tucked away in the corner mini mall. Once through the door of Spicy BBQ, you are enveloped by its charm. And you feel at home.

Kay, with her kind face and mothering instinct, invites us inside. There are only a few tables to choose from. The place is enchanting. It reminds of gingerbread houses and folktales.

Burgundy curtains swag in a valance above the one window facing out towards the parking lot. Signage written at the top of the windowpane simply reads, “Spicy.” Underneath the description is “BBQ” but from inside I can only read “Spicy” backwards. The glass door shimmers and the jingle bell tinkles. Scrolled writing in Thai upon a decorative wooden placard says “Welcome” hanging along the entry wall, and the wainscoting is adorned with a strip of wood carved ornament.

The menu has many dishes; laminated photos illustrating the noodles, fish, meats, curries, soups, rice. Kay will tell you what dishes are better than the ones you’ve chosen, and she will stand right before you, grinning with her friendly smile. She knows better.

So here is the original story about how ginger is a potent aphrodisiac.

*****

It Was The Ginger

We ordered the ginger pork curry for the first time. Kay, the waitress, suggested that it went best with sticky rice, so we agreed. Also side dishes of papaya salad (Som Tam) and Tom Kha soup, laced with the potent spice of Thai chili.

Our Thai teas arrived, tamarind orange, slushy with ice, the condensed milk swirling into cloud patterns, served in tall Coca-Cola glasses. The straws came adorned with small roses sculpted by hand out of the white wrapping paper. I thought this was charming. Just what I would expect from this little dollhouse of a Thai restaurant, hidden away in the urban sprawl of Los Angeles.

We were two lovers meeting in a Thai café, taking a moment away from the rest of the world. I’ve wanted to hold on to this memory, because it was when we first met. We sat side by side, leaning close together, my head resting upon his shoulder. Tenderly I noticed the shape of his ear, the masculine lines of his face, and with my eyes I traced each curve of his cheek, his eyes, nose, lips. The scent of his skin, so good, I nuzzle into the curve of him like a little girl seeking comfort. I can never get close enough, leaning into him, kissing the side of his neck, inhaling near his cheek, a kiss placed there. Our hands linked, tips of his fingers caressing mine. I feel shivers run through me. I want him. Down to the tips of my toes. Inhale. Sip of creamy tamarind-sweet Thai tea goes cold down my throat. I feel it send its condensed milk through my veins until I am buoyant with that giddy feeling of being saturated with sweetness. Falling in love.

Kay brought each dish to the table. The festive papaya salad, the aromatic hot pot full of Tom Kha soup. Sticky rice wrapped in plastic, placed inside cup-sized baskets. The rice package is hot in the palm of my hand. I want to scoop it out, spoon it on my plate, but I wait for the curry.

He opens his, takes the rice from its basket, eats a little of it by itself. My mouth is full of soup. I savor the Tom Kha with shrimp and some white fleshy fish, spoon plunking into the creamy bowl, straw mushrooms bobbing happily in the coconut milk, eating fat slices of tomato, hot and steaming in my mouth. I taste lemongrass and galangal root, chili and kaffir lime. Tom Kha nourishes me when I’m in need of something comforting, and I resort to it when I am not feeling well. No other soup makes me feel better. But even when my health is good, I crave a big bowl of it.

Then the aphrodisiac dish arrives: kaeng hangleh (ginger pork curry) with large slices of ginger, a dazzle of peanuts, the stew of the curry so sensuous and velvety, its sultry gravy saturating the sticky rice with a hearty glaze. Cilantro, fragrant and green, feathered on top of the surface. Peanuts dappled among the large pieces of pork meat, and the curry itself thick with a wondrous color mélange of turmeric-orange, massaman paste chili-red. A curry that has depth, a healing pot of stew. This curry made me forget vegetarianism, and all of my meatless days, finding something nurturing in the flesh of a pig.

I think of that first bite of the ginger pork curry, how it was ladled so lovingly on top of the pillow of sticky rice by my Darling, as he served me each amount without the meat of the pork, just slowly dousing the hillock of my white portion of rice with the unctuous gravy, making sure I got my share of the wide slivers of ginger. When I think of that taste and soul satisfying texture, how it seeped into my blood and bones, I realized that ginger, glorious and zesty, a mischievous rhizome root, made my body zing with desire. I felt my veins buzz. Potent with the spicy passion of ginger, it was as if some devilish pixie lit tiny fires of lust inside of us. It must be the ginger, I thought.

As the sauce of the curry dripped down my chin, I quickly dabbed at it with my napkin, and held the bite within my mouth for a slow burn. The fiery chili and ginger slices warmed through me. I enjoyed sinking my teeth into the rind of the ginger, chewing its fibrous root, feeling its expansive quality radiate. I marveled at the glistening fat glittering in the curry, how the rice carried it so perfectly. The ginger was the essence of this splendid dish.

Galangal is the Siamese ginger, sister to ginger itself, also considered aphrodisiac by Thai herbalists. Musky hot and sour, the slices of the galangal root are pungent, deliciously flavoring the soups of most Thai varieties. I had once bitten into a slice of the galangal root and thought it was awfully medicinal tasting; bitter and inedible. I could not remove that taste memory from my mind. Even so, it changes the entire flavor of the soup in a transformative way. Steeped in soup, galangal root is aromatic.

After dinner, we went for a drive into the hills, and I showed my Darling the neighborhood where I grew up. I asked him to drive farther into the winding roads uphill. Then I showed him the street, steep and veined with black-tarred cracks in the asphalt, the street that stretched around and down into my childhood memory. The street where I skinned my knees and ran and laughed and played hopscotch on the sidewalk. The car swerved along the hilly roads until we reached the bottom of the hill. We turned down a road, one where I wasn’t allowed to go, because it was a dead end and too far from my house. There were hiking trails, houses on one side, other houses hidden by trees and brush. The ginger was still making my blood fizzy with its spice. We parked on the dark street and kissed.

Headlights off, streetlights buzzing in their orange glow. I caressed his face gently with my hands. The natural scent of him, his warm mouth melting against mine. I’m intoxicated by his kiss. His tongue tastes of ginger, he smells of lemongrass and turmeric, his lips, a heaven of spices. He leans across the center console of the car and unbuckles his seatbelt. I unbuckle my heeled sandals. I undo my seatbelt. His hands tuck up underneath my hair as he pulls my face closer, deeper, kiss.

His mouth and mine, his mouth, mine. It must be the ginger.

The second time he brought a large container of ginger pork curry over to my place and we had the same dinner as the first: Tom Kha soup, papaya salad, and ginger pork curry. The table set with candles, my long hair swept up, wearing a red dress, barefoot. I placed one foot on top on his thigh under the dining table. He spooned the gingery gravy of the curry over our plates of rice. We ate slowly. Halfway through the meal, he gazed at me. I smiled at him and we left the half-eaten plates of food to clean up later. Honey, I think it was the ginger, I sighed breathlessly. Passionate love is intense with ginger, so be sure when you use it, you know you are in good hands.

The third time we shared this ginger dish at the same Thai restaurant, we pondered the menu longer than usual, considering something different. But we both knew we wanted the ginger pork curry.

“It’s the ginger,” I mused. He gave a sly glance, his almond eyes curved with flirtation. We knew what would happen after eating it. But he doesn’t believe that ginger is the sole reason for our extreme passion. We agreed there is something marvelous about that ginger pork curry. We both find it folly to think that an edible root can induce such lusty moments in love; the kind that fog up car windows and make us kiss like teenagers on a date. Yet, ginger was proving itself to be a powerful aphrodisiac.

It may have been the ginger pork curry that caused our love to flame brightly with passion. It certainly caused us to notice that something had aroused our uncontrollable desire for each other. Perhaps the ginger may have had some effect, like turning up the fire under a hot, sizzling pan. It was after the third time, we were sure that eating the ginger pork curry was an aphrodisiac.

Rainy Day in Venice à la Française : Le Café au Zinque

Posted on March 16, 2012 by foodie

“The fragrance & adventure of poetry endlessly pervades each cup of tea”~ Henri Mariage

This morning, gray drizzle. I am wearing a knit scarf, yoga pants, a long sleeve cotton top, and a cozy sweater. But I am not wearing boots on this rainy day. In true Venetian style, I am wearing flip flops in hopes that I’ll make it over to the beach on my cruiser bicycle. Perhaps it will clear up, and I can stroll along the sand. I haven’t had leisurely time these days. I am not accustomed to it either. But the soul requires slow. I am a dreamy sort, trying to keep up with the quick moving city bustle. I think to myself, we can’t possibly be made for rushing about in the fray, driving in traffic, spending hours upon hours in the car, wondering what to make for dinner, when and where to buy groceries, and then worrying about things that we don’t want to think about but do, because sitting in traffic trying to get to places on time will trigger that sort of thinking. And so, in defiance of all the hurry scurry that usually fills my days, I am having a lovely cup of tea, an egg sandwich with tomato, basil and Swiss cheese, and a bowl of granola with berries and yogurt. The bowl of granola with its yogurt, plain and unassuming, lightly covered in granola with fresh raspberries, blueberries, and halved grapes.

This newly opened coffee house/wine bar in Venice is just near the intersection of Abbot Kinney and Venice Boulevard, and it’s très français. Warm, fresh from the oven le pain au chocolat, croissants that taste like croissants, tartines, café, thé, vin et le champagne… oysters every Monday night with a master ecailler, wine tastings, and other temptations that are just irresistable.

How can one resist? Comment pouvez-vous?

Le Zinque, a coffee and wine bar, is just the place for me. The first time I came to Le Zinque was with Darling for a cozy evening nibble of cheese, some tartines, and a carafe of wine for two.

French cafés are zincs, and its interior is as simple as its name— a long wood counter, concrete floor, rustic beams, nothing fancy. It’s Abbot Kinney location lends even more of a hip and yet relaxed feel, an easygoing nonchalance, where writers like me can enjoy a moment of contemplation and feel the creativity flow through our veins with a little chocolat et thé.

Writers and artists have always flocked to cafés, throughout history. Paris had its Montparnasse brimming with les artistes, and Café du Dôme was where all the intellectuals, sculptors, writers, poets, painters, and penniless bohemians had their fill of sausage (Saucisse de Toulouse) and mashed potatoes for cheap or perhaps a drawing or poem on a napkin. Which I wish still worked as currency, because I’d have to paint a grand painting for my pain au chocolat et thé at Le Zinque for my petit morning of leisure. My egg sandwich is superb, however. They bake the eggs in muffin tins so the egg comes out plump and round, with the swiss cheese melted lusciously all over it, peppered, the tomato juicy and tasting of fresh tomato, not mealy textured or watery, basil leaf dripping with moist delicacy, the English muffin crisp and warm.

And how I love a good egg sandwich. The tea is Mariage Frères, Rouge Bourbon Vanillè. It is a vanilla black tea, creamy, exotic, marvelously sensual. Frothy steamed milk served in a large bowl-like cup. The egg sandwich, satisfying my need for comfort.

It is my new bohemian habit to come to this café, and have tea, or if later in the day, a glass of wine, a tartine. One morning I arrived early, just as the pain au chocolat came out of the oven. The flaky and tender pain au chocolat paired with a Marco Polo tea filled my belly as I read through a cookbook, planning my next cooking adventure. Ah, the Marco Polo tea blend is a marvelous flavor. According to the tea maker, Marco Polo tea is “Mariage Frères’ most famous secret is this mysterious blend that takes you to distant lands and strange countries.” Chinese and Tibetan flowers are blended with fruit, giving a uniquely deep and floral bouquet. Its aroma lingered as I sipped from my cup, and then a bite of the buttery pain au chocolat. I will be like the artistes of Montparnasse, and frequent Zinque as often as I can write, paint and create, for the love of food and sensuality.

Aphrodisiac Recipe for Love : Passionata Pesto

Posted on March 15, 2012 by foodie

The beauty of fresh bouquets of basil always attracts me when I’m produce shopping at my local farmers market. The wide green leaves not only look lovely, they smell wonderful as well.

There are more than 50 varieties of basil, and for many centuries it has been known as an aphrodisiac. The plant is native to India and has been grown in the Asian continent for over 5,000 years. Basil inspires desire and helps with fertility issues. It gives a sense of wellness and calm, relieving anxiety. In Roman times, the fragrant scent of basil also was thought to inspire men to passionate heights when their lover’s breasts were dusted with dried and powdered basil. No insignificant herb, basil has been popular for stirring up passion in pots and pans, especially in Italy, Thailand, and Vietnam. South Asian cuisines use the Thai Basil variety for many different dishes. Thai Basil, Lemon Basil, and Holy Basil are the main types of basil used all over Asia. Italians use Sweet Basil for their pesto sauces and other recipes.

Chinese cooks like to use basil in their soups. Thai basil is a fragrant addition to the Vietnamese soup, phở. In Taiwan, fresh basil leaves are added to soups and deep fried with their fried chicken recipes.

Of course, pesto is what I love to use basil for the most. It is fun to create different kinds of pesto, such as arugula pesto, but the traditional basil pesto is my favorite.

Here I’ve used the basic recipe but added pistachios in with the pine nuts as well as a hint of black truffles. Even though basil is a powerful aphrodisiac on its very own, pine nuts add another seductive dimension to your pesto. Pine Nuts, or Pignolias, are zinc-rich and tasty little things that flavor pesto with a creamy and luxurious flavor. And pine nuts are, you guessed it, an aphrodisiac known to bring couples together and fire up their mating instincts as well as their matrimonial dreams. Seriously. Pine nuts are magical things that make wedding bell wishes come true. To add this into an already sensuous recipe with gloriously green basil leaves, well. Not only will your pesto look deliciously green from the basil, but its texture will be voluptuous with this powerful little nut from the pine tree, known as the pignolia. And if you aren’t married yet and wish to make your lover hear wedding bells… make passionate pesto. If you are married and want to bring back the passionata, make a little mangia mangia and you’ll see. It works.

Passionata Pesto

I made this pesto the other night before Darling came home for dinner. Penne was all this pesto needed to transport his senses to the euphoric states of passionate love. I had grand designs to satisfy his hunger for food and l’amour. Just after I blended up this pesto recipe, he came into the kitchen and began nibbling the back of my neck, kissing here and there. From that point on, what amorous mischief evolved while the penne was boiling is my secret and most passionate ingredient. Wasn’t it mentioned somewhere that the fragrance of basil inspires the passion of men?

olive oil, 2 generous cups
bouquet of basil, plucked leaves
lemon juice, 1/2 cup freshly squeezed
parmesan, 1/2 cup and some
garlic, 3 cloves, blanched to remove bitterness
pine nuts, 1/2 cup and some
pistachios, 1/4 cup
sea salt, to taste
Urbani Truffle Thrills “Pesto & Truffles” 1 tablespoon

Pour a generous amount of olive oil into your blender. Blanche the garlic quickly in boiling water for about two minutes. Add the garlic, lemon juice, basil leaves, parmesan, pine nuts, pistachios, and your tiny amount of (optional) black truffle (not too much) into the blender and combine until the pesto is smooth and green. Just a hint of truffle. Don’t go wild. It’s potent stuff. Yes, if you really want to seal the deal and go extreme with aphrodisiac passion, add the black truffles. I found this adorable little tin full of real black truffle, not the cloying truffle oil stuff. Urbani is the brand name of the magical truffle products. If you are lucky enough to get your hands on real fresh truffles, shave some into this passionately! Keep adding parmesan, basil leaves, and pine nuts until you have created a nice consistency, either rough or smooth, to your liking. Sea salt and pepper to taste.

You can also slather it on foccacia, add some ricotta and basil leaves chiffonade, and it’s simply decadent. Use pesto in the morning with a poached egg and drizzle of balsamic crème.

Sandwiches and wraps are also good ways to eat this pesto with passion. But I just love it on focaccia with an egg. Serve it up sexy with ratatouille or a soup and you have yourself a tantalizing lunch for two, passionata style.

Aphrodisiac Elixirs for Radiance : The Chai Bliss Smoothie

Posted on March 14, 2012 by foodie

I’ve been conjuring up some recipes for radiance. Aphrodisiacs, as we commonly know them, are meant for inspiring love. But what about our vitality? Yes, the same herbs, spices, fruits and foods can also benefit our health. Sexy is healthy. When we feel good, vibrant and alive we create good energy and positive thoughts. So pour on the sexy and get your mojo groove on with an aphrodisiac elixir smoothie.

Because I’m a lover of chai tea and I just can’t get enough of that spice blend, I created my version of a chai smoothie to give me an extra boost — The Chai Bliss Smoothie.

Chai Bliss

This smoothie is a spicy blend of vanilla, cardamom and cinnamon, all aphrodisiacs for love, wellness and vitality.

2 cups almond milk (homemade & fresh if you can)
coconut water from 1 whole coconut, ice cold preferably
2 bananas
9 dates, pitted
cinnamon
cardamom
vanilla, pod or extract
maca powder (improves mood & balances hormones)
horny goat weed (look out libido)
flaxseed oil (get flaxy)

The dates make this smoothie sweet, but if you want, add a little honey. Honey is one of my favorite things in life. Just call me honey. You are what you eat! You can also add herbal tinctures and other ingredients to make your smoothie aphrodisiac more magical. I suggest horny goat weed, or a dash of flax seed oil. Maca root is also a fabulous energy booster for vitality.

Maca Root is considered the “Superfood of the Andes” and is a true adaptogen. It has phyto-chemicals that benefit our health. Its magical properties are beneficial for women of perimenopausal and menopausal age, but guys, don’t turn away! Maca root can also boost your libido and help you feel good. It doesn’t act upon the hormones directly, but has positive effects on energy and mood. It can help alleviate anxiety and improve sexual desire. Maca may also improve sperm production and semen volume. You can relax a little and love more!

I’ve been taking Femmenessence capsules that contain concentrated levels of maca root, but you can find maca powder in health food stores to add directly to your smoothie.

Horny Goat Weed, or Epimedium, is a plant that contains chemical compounds similar to the drug Viagra. Many species of Epimedium have aphrodisiac qualities and can be considered nature’s Viagra. Why? Icariin. Icariin is the primary active component of Epimedium extracts, possessing similar compounds used to help impotence and improve sexual function. It increases sexual desire in both men and women. Its Chinese names are Xing Ling Pi, and Yin Yang Huo. You can find herbal tinctures of this super aphrodisiac and add some mojo to your smoothie for a libido and mood booster you are sure to remember as Horny Goat Weed!

Flax Seed Oil is another recommended addition to this smoothie. Especially for women, flaxseed oil contains rich amounts of lignans, phytoestrogens that improve hormonal levels. This is ideal for menopausal women because it increases levels of good estrogen like estriadol, which is necessary for all of those feminine reasons, keeping us ladies juicy and radiant. Potent antioxidants, balancing cholesterol and hormones, dash a little flaxseed oil in, or, if you want extra lignan benefits, grind up some flax seeds and add that dose into your blender. Ancient Babylonian beauties used flaxseeds for their vitality, and so should you!

Cardamom is an aphrodisiac that you can use in cooking both savory, sweet and in smoothie treats. Improves energy, increases circulation, gives a spicy sense of well being, and revitalizes sexual desire. It is also a good antacid and helps digestion. It detoxifies, cleanses the system, and some practitioners of Ayurveda also use it for treating infection of the urinary tract. In Indian Ayurvedic medicine, cardamom balances all three “doshas” of the body — kapha, vata, and pitta. Chewing on cardamom pods freshens breath.

Did you know? SEXY FACT: Cinnamon is a deliciously intoxicating smell that triggers sexual desire in most men. Studies have found that the scent of pumpkin pie and cinnamon buns are the top aphrodisiac scents for men. But did you know that cinnamon is also good for purifying the blood, detoxifying your system, and regulating blood sugar? The bark of the cinnamon tree has been used for centuries to “perfume the lovers’ bed.”

In Chinese medicine, Cassia cinnamon is used for colds, digestive issues, and menstrual relief. Cinnamon improves energy and vitality.

Vanilla is an aphrodisiac. Its sensual scent, its luscious flavor, vanilla and all of its types: Bourbon, Tahitian, Mexican, are sure to awaken your love life and your love for life!

Vanilla reduces anxiety and has a euphoric quality. Relaxing, sensual, delicious vanilla. No wonder we love it in cakes, ice cream, and other sweets.

I had already made fresh almond milk the day before and had it ready in the fridge. It’s very easy to make, especially if you have professional grade blender like Vitamix.

I highly recommend adding the fresh coconut to this smoothie for additional health and beauty benefits, as well as better flavor. The natural sweetness enhances the dates and banana. Also, coconut water is high in potassium. It has about the same amount of potassium as a banana, low in sodium, and contains calcium, magnesium and phosphorus. Electrolyte rich, your body and skin will thank you. Also, when you are well hydrated, it improves orgasms. But that’s my own personal theory. I’m still researching that hypothesis until I’ve proven it as a fact.

You could make this elixir smoothie an ultra-aphrodisiac and add some ginseng to it as well. Consult your Chinese medicine herbalist for quality ginseng and usage of herbal tinctures.