I’ve been thinking a lot lately about cooking. Every New Year’s Day, I cook this specific meal — pork roast, collard greens, black-eyed peas, corn bread. It’s a Southern thing. And I have friends over to enjoy it. I love it. Few things make me happier than cooking for people. I come from a long line of women in the kitchen, and it’s how I was taught to show love.
So, anyway. It’s been on my mind. And it got me thinking of the first time I baked for someone. Here’s the story. Enjoy.
My first boyfriend was ridiculous, but I adored him. Let’s call him Trevor. Trevor had long, dyed black hair and a long goatee like that guy from Alice in Chains. He painted his nails and played the bass. Not for a band or anything. He just played it. Oh, I just liked him so much. Trevor’s birthday came around and I decided to bake him something. Even at 16 I knew that two sure-fire ways to make a guy happy were baking and tiny panties. I’m still not proven wrong. My mom had these turtle brownies she would make for parties that people would shit their pants over. It’s one of those shortcut, Betty Crocker, 50’s drunk housewife kind of recipes. This was what I would make, he would love them, and I would thus be worshipped as a nourishment giving sex goddess. So I talked my mom out of the recipe and I baked away. To my surprise, they turned out pretty perfect and I bounced along to Trevor’s house (his dad was out of town, yippee!) to present the brownies and receive my due praise. Poorly executed head. We were teenagers, remember? These things take time and practice.
I revealed the brownies, yanking the aluminum foil away with a flourish. He was impressed, let me tell you. Caramel and little brownie crumbs got stuck in his goatee. Soon, my Bikini Kill t-shirt and Doc Martins were in a bundle on the floor and we were getting down to some business.
Trevor looked at a lot of porn. And he had some ideas. So it didn’t surprise me when, as we’re making out and dry humping on his dad’s water bed (which had a mirror on the ceiling above it– ew,) he told me that he wanted to play around with some chocolate and he had gotten something special for us. Alright, I thought, envisioning some sort of swirly Hershey’s syrup licking thing happening. This is hot, right? Sexy people do this. Eat food off of each other’s bodies. “Ok, sure, I guess. Giggle. Giggle,” I say as we rip the sheets off the water bed. Off he went to the kitchen, while I attempted to arrange my body in an attractive Victoria’s Secret catalog kind of way. I saw him silhouetted in the doorway, something in his hand. “Close your eyes,” he said. I did, and a few moments later I felt something hard, long, and really fucking freezing enter my pussy.
“Yahhh! What the fuck is that?”
“What? It’s a Snickers bar. I froze it so it would be hard. Maybe I should microwave it a little,”
“Yeah, ok. Maybe that would be better.”
No one can accuse me of not being accommodating.
“Don’t microwave it too long,” I called as he took the Snickers bar back to the kitchen. I heard the hum and ding! of the microwave and he returned with the Snickers on a plate. He knelt over me, sexy intense look on his face, and proceeded to smear hot chocolate on my labia. Really hot chocolate. I yelled at him to fuck off with that Snickers bar, and flew off the bed to run to the bathroom and pour cold water over my snatch.
It was not sexy and the next day I had developed a pretty intense yeast infection. I swore revenge. The next time I went over to his house, I purred in his ear that I’d like to try the body dessert thing again, but this time I would do the drizzling and licking. He hopped right to the bed, pants around his ankles, eager as all 17-year-old boys are for any reason to get a mouth around his penis. “Close your eyes,” I cooed as I pulled out of my purse some little packets of honey. I had asked for extra with my Chicken McNuggets earlier that day. I popped them open and emptied them all over his chest, cock, and balls. And Trevor had a lot of body hair. It was awesome. He was in the shower for an hour while I smoked his pot and watched My So Called Life.
So that was my first baking experience. Want to reenact it? Here’s the brownie recipe to get you started. Just remember to put the Snickers in for no more that 15 seconds.
PECAN TURTLE BROWNIES
1 14 oz bag of caramels, unwrapped
1 5 oz can of evaporated milk, divided
1 stick of unsalted butter, very softened
1 cup of chopped raw pecans
1 cup of bittersweet chocolate chips
1 box of Devil’s Food cake mix
Preheat oven to 350. Melt caramels with half of the evaporated milk in a double boiler over low heat, stirring frequently until smooth (slutty version: use the microwave. Put the caramels and milk in a microwave safe bowl and zap for two minutes at a time, stirring between zaps.) Meanwhile, dump the cake mix into a large bowl. Mix in the rest of the milk and the softened butter, and stir until the cake mix is all moist. Mix in the pecans and chocolate chips. Spread the mixture into the bottom of a buttered 9.5 x 11 inch cake pan. Bake for 10 minutes. Pull it out of the oven and immediately pour over the caramel sauce. Blob the remaining cake mix over the caramel. Put it back in the oven and bake for another 15 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the cake part comes clean.
Cool and cut into squares. Use them to entice your friends into some food play. They work every time.