Welcome, one and orgies, to the soup course in the blogland progressive dinner!
We're doing this course TV-style, with a pair of hosts in color-coordinated outfits, who play off one another and have a hot backstage relationship. Joining me is my partner in sexual chemistry (and biology), the wonderful Helia Brookes. For those who haven't yet had the pleasure of meeting Helia (aka "Mrs. Jeremy," though really she's a Ms.) ... Helia, people you haven't met; people you haven't met, Helia. Now let's party!
Precisely where, you may ask, are we? Well, for this very special occasion, we've set up a very special terrace. It's a terrace with two views, views that are not, under normal circumstances, compatible. Helia, what will our guests see if they sit next to you (aside from your cleavage, I mean)?
Helia: From my side of the table, we're looking across a plunging valley
Jeremy: No, I said aside from ...
Helia: ... to a hillside opposite.
Jeremy: Ah! Sorry.
Helia: Where we sit, we can't see the bottom of the valley, just the green fields and deep woods across from us—far enough away to have a slight shimmer, yet still visible in every detail.
Jeremy: Meanwhile, if you sit next to me, you'll get an ocean view! An abbreviated bikini of white sand gives it up for a turquoise tablecloth that stretches to the horizon (and, presumably, beyond—unless it's just chicken wire).
Precisely where, you may ask, are we? Well, for this very special occasion, we've set up a very special terrace. It's a terrace with two views, views that are not, under normal circumstances, compatible. Helia, what will our guests see if they sit next to you (aside from your cleavage, I mean)?
Helia: From my side of the table, we're looking across a plunging valley
Jeremy: No, I said aside from ...
Helia: ... to a hillside opposite.
Jeremy: Ah! Sorry.
Helia: Where we sit, we can't see the bottom of the valley, just the green fields and deep woods across from us—far enough away to have a slight shimmer, yet still visible in every detail.
Jeremy: Meanwhile, if you sit next to me, you'll get an ocean view! An abbreviated bikini of white sand gives it up for a turquoise tablecloth that stretches to the horizon (and, presumably, beyond—unless it's just chicken wire).
If you want to have it all, feel free to switch seats at any time. Just climb right across our laps. Back and forth, as often as you like. Ooh, yes, right there.
Helia: Speaking of tablecloths ... there's a thick damask cloth on the table.
Jeremy: And halfway through the evening, we'll remove damask. [He punctuates this remark with "Groucho" business.] And look! There's just room enough on the terrace for Stereolab (plus string quartet)!
Jeremy: I'll pour out some luscious and spicy Fishnet Creek (!) Old Vine Zinfandel—into glasses, if I'm lucky—while Helia explains about the spicy mushroom soup we've concocted just for this occasion.
Jeremy: I'll pour out some luscious and spicy Fishnet Creek (!) Old Vine Zinfandel—into glasses, if I'm lucky—while Helia explains about the spicy mushroom soup we've concocted just for this occasion.
Helia [in staccato-but-sexy, rattling-off-list-of-ingredients voice]:
1/4 cup butter
medium onion. sliced very fine
1/4 all-purpose flour
Jeremy: Can anyone name all the purposes?
Helia [continuing]:
2-3 tbsp dried mushrooms
8-10oz fresh brown, crimini, or other non-white mushrooms
2 large cloves garlic
2 tbsp olive oil
1 tsp balsamic vinegar
salt and black pepper
2 tsp Dijon mustard or to taste
Jeremy, on behalf of the Department of Condimentary Precision:
That's country Dijon—the hearty, grainy kind (as opposed to the more homogeneous yellow version). Incidentally, we almost cut the mustard entirely and curried favor by using curry powder instead ... but, in the final analysis, mustard mustered up more enthusiasm in our kitchen.
Helia [cutting in, lest the soup get cold]:
1/4 tsp cayenne powder
1/8 tsp nutmeg
1/2 tsp dried thyme
[Lowering her voice one sultry notch, she segues smoothly into the narrative portion of the recipe.]
Crumble and soak the dried mushrooms in 4-6 cups of boiling water. Let sit for at least 10 minutes.
Saute onion in butter until translucent. Stir in flour. Slowly add the mushroom water in small amounts, stirring constantly. Add spices except mustard and simmer.
Clean the fresh mushrooms and cut off the end of the stems. Slice 1/8 thick. Saute with the minced garlic in olive oil. When the mushrooms have released their liquid, add the balsamic vinegar and salt/pepper to taste. Cook for about 5 more minutes, then add to the soup.
Simmer the soup another 10 minutes or so. Add the Dijon mustard [J: country Dijon mustard!], taste, and adjust seasonings.
Serve with garlic croutons. [Whispers mini-recipe for croutons.] Cube several slices good bread (can be stale) and saute in olive oil with minced garlic, salt and pepper, stirring frequently until browned.
The dried mushrooms were actually picked from our land. They are scaber stalks, and some years they grow along our driveway under the aspen trees. (See obligatory note!) I slice them thinly and dry them on cookie sheets, then store in baggies. Very similar to porcini.
Obl. note: Be extremely careful about mushrooms and stick only to the very safest and easiest species—don't eat ANY wild mushroom based on anything I say! Be absolutely POSITIVE you know what it is before eating—which can require spore prints etc. "When in doubt, throw it out."
Jeremy: Soup's on, folks! Now then, what shall we talk about over this course?
Helia [reacting in a flash of spontaneous inspiration, as specified in her prepared notes]: Like many avid readers, a lot of my early exposure to sex came through fiction. I remember being turned on by a scene in The Sword in the Stone by T. H. White, which wasn't supposed to be sexual at all—nor did I recognize at the time that the tingling I felt between my legs was sexual either. Then the good old Decameron by Boccaccio—I must have heard something about it to make me pull it out from many other thick, dusty, grown-up, uninviting-looking volumes on my parent's shelves. I skimmed for the juicy bits—how did I recognize what they were?—especially "Masetto da Lamporecchio feigns to be dumb, and obtains a gardener's place at a convent of women, who with one accord make haste to lie with him" and "Alibech turns hermit, and is taught by Rustico, a monk, how the Devil is put in hell." At my grandmother's I came across the TV movie tie-in edition of A Girl Named Sooner. The adults have sex after the husband drinks directly from the milk carton—ooh, transgression! Later (adolescence, but before any personal experience) there were stories in the National Lampoon, which wasn't very funny then but was very explicit, Sophie's Choice (protagonist is groped on the subway) and a novel serialized in the New Music Express—the only thing I remember about it is a protagonist's clit being described as a pearl in oil or something like that.
Do you remember moments of puzzlement, growing understanding, or arousal from reading? Did you ask an adult or a friend about it, or keep it as your secret? Did you have favorite passages you revisited for the pleasure they brought?
Jeremy: Wow, I'll have to think about that ... it's been, um, a long time since those formative years. Maybe other people's reminiscences will spark some memories. (I was once, in adult life, paid to read the Decameron into a tape recorder for a private client ... but that's another story. Or another ten stories, actually.)
Don't forget, tomorrow's course is frisky fish, at Neve Black's place!
35 comments:
Wow, dinner and a show!
That soup looks lovely! I can smell its yellowy goodness from here.
And what charmant dining music!
And what a view!
And what a view!
I especially like the abbreviated bikini. Would that be "bki"?
The first book I remember being turned on by was in the children's department of my hometown library. I was just browsing the shelves and picking up titles that sounded good (I still do that!). I'm not sure what it was called (but I think the words "bad boy" were in it) and I don't think I read the book, just skimmed it while standing there. I immediately found the word spank -- who knows how! -- and got such a frisson.
I firmly believe perverts are born, not made.
Thank you for the meal, Mr & Mrs!
[Insert wolf whistle for Helia's plunging valley here.]
Really, it was like being in the kitchen with Burns and Allen. Or was it Mrs Parker and Mr Benchley?
Can we go skinny-dipping in Fishnet Creek afterwards? I'll wear mine just for the occasion! And then a mushroom-hunt with master mycologist, Jeremy Edwards. (And do pay attention to his Obl. note, boys and girls. You really don't want to end up like Babar's King).
Colonel (country Dijon) Mustard, in the Conservatory, with the Rope.
Hey, you're early! Fascinatingly (the degree to which both of you would personally have an idea of), so am I. Yet EllaRegina still beat me to commenting first! ;)
I LOVE mushrooms, and this soup looks marvelous. Thank you!
Early reading about sex...off the top of my head I am not remembering much about really early (or at all subtle, for that matter) reading on the subject, but I can tell you about my first exposure to written porn. (If you don't mind. ;) ) I was about 19, and a female friend of mine had acquired a Playgirl magazine. For some reason, up until this point, my exposure to porn in just about any form had been almost nonexistent. She showed me the readers' fantasies section, and what I remember about it is that I found myself turned on by things that seemed much more "hardcore" than I thought I was or would be turned on by. And I found myself intimidated by this -- so much so that I didn't want to admit to my friend what parts really turned me on and acted quite nonchalant about the whole thing. But she gave me the magazine, and I kept it around for about 10 years because a couple of those stories really seemed to get me every time. :)
At that time the very strict what I thought was "feminist" part of my psyche did not think I should be turned on by anything that did not overtly display an "equality" between the sexes in every interaction. But that was not the way my body responded. I don't even remember exactly what the content was, but there was some in these written fantasies that apparently didn't fit that description, and I remember feeling both turned on and simultaneously guilty for being turned on.
While, yes, I experienced some discomfort as a result of this, in a way it seems that it served as an express train to issues within me for me to examine. Later, after I did (not that that process overall is not still occurring), I was able to read those stories guilt-free -- which was probably why I kept that magazine around for the next decade. ;)
Thanks Jeremy and Helia for hosting this delightful course!!
Wow is all I can say. You two did such a beautiful back and forth. ;)
I remember reading one of my mother's romance novels when I was about 11. I didn't really get it at the time, but in the next few years it all started to make sense. Then, of course I moved on to the Hustler Letters under my brother's bed. Ah, good times.
Can't wait to give the soup a try!
Spam Word: Meatarb. Sounds delicious!!
Oh man! This is getting too much. *nostrils flare* I can just smell it. I don't know what I like better, the sex or the food.
My reminiscences are w a y too far back there, on the back burner so to speak. I'll have to sift through and dredge some up. Something to chew on however, thanks.
And thanks for this wonderful treat, Nick and Nora. ; ) I'll try it with our porcini which we always run past the local experts to make sure they are good.
Buon appetito.
Mmm, mm, mmmmmmushroom. That sounds delish, tho I don't think we have scaber mushrooms here. Maybe these pretty red and white ones will do instead? Cool!
first sexy book experience ... I think it might have been 'The Swimming Pool Season' by Rose Tremain. Lots of earthy shagging, as far as I can remember. And swimming pools, strangely.
I do remember hunting furtively through lots of ver*y worthy literary n!ovels to find the juicy bits ...
Uh, th*ese mu"shroom.s seem *to b-e kicki^ng "in. *s*ter(eola^b ssso"und l=ik"e, amazi^n**ggg! "**! *
What a lovely recipe, and a great presentation. The music was a pleasure, what I noticed of it while I took in the view.
Yup, you two need to get a Food Network show.
My first literary excursions into pleasures of the flesh were Playboy magazine. My brother (nine years older than I) came back from college with a pile of Playboys, which my mother promptly put out to the curb for the trash man to taketh.
It was summer.
Mom worked days.
I like to think of it as a rescue mission. By golly, these were vintage Playboys (okay, not back then, but it sounds good.)
I suppose mom got to throw them out again in the early 80's after I went off to the Army. "Damn! This filth looks vaguely familiar!"
But I only rescued them for the articles.
In my middle teens I read a number of novels with the naughty bits in them: Jacqueline Suzanne's Once is Not Enough, Irving Wallace's The Fan Club, and the now classic Up in Mamie's Diary by John Colleton (?!?!).
Oh, and EllaRegina. Perverts are born, not made? How very, very true!
Thank you both for the invite. Jeremy, you look smashing.
Everything looks and smells wonderful. The view is incredible. I simply must remember to record the recipe for the soup.
I used to read my dad's Playboys for the cartoons. Then, one day when I was about twelve, I was going through my great-grandmothers basement, and I found my aunt's diary from when she was a teenager, along with a book called My Sexy Sis. I had to sneak it into the bathroom with me (of course I'd discovered self pleasure at the tender age of ten...), and it remains to this day one of the hottest books I can remember reading.
Of course my big brother got a hold of it and then it disappeared from my life, and I've never been able to find it since.
Ooh, I'm all for ER's idea of skinny dipping. And yes, I agree with you Ella. This pervert was definately born this way.
I am laughing so hard right now! This was excellent. Great dialogue. Yes, I agree with Craig: The J&H BDSM and Food Show. It would of course have to air after the late show. :-)
I can smell that yummy, mushroom (magic shrooms of course) soup all the way in Cleveland.
Hmmm...the first reading of prose and porn... I was that cross breed weirdo girl that had her nose in a book, but was really into sports too. I'm sorry, there's a point to this diatribe.
It had to be accidentally stumbling onto Anais Nin's work, via reading and researching a project about Henry Miller for a high school English class. I was in the library wearing some sports related outfit and it was if a light was turned on inside me. I was awoken after reading her work. Henry Miller's work didn't trip me up the way Ms. Nin's prose and poems did. I remember thinking, holy crap, this woman is amazing!
How would I have known I was bitten by the porn writing bug way back then...? And yes, that was a reallllly loooong time ago for moi.
Thank you, you two. This was and has been lots of fun.
Hi, everyone! I love how here in blogland, I can lay out dinner before going to bed, wake up the next morning, and find I'm just in time for dinner.
I'm so absorbed by all your personal accounts, and laughing so hard at all your witty remarks, that I keep knocking over my glass of Fishnet. Still, this wine tastes good even when lapped up from a damask-covered table. [Ooh, I just noticed that according to my dictionary, the accent in damask is on the first syllable, dam—meaning that my Groucho line doesn't work. Dam!]
I should clarify that Helia picks the mushrooms [SEE OBLIGATORY NOTE]. I'm not much of a woodsman—at least not in that sense of the term.
Wow, such steamy, sexy soup - perfect for today! So glad I was able stop by - back home, we're having a blizzard! It's so warm and cozy of you to offer your laps and your zinfandel and wonderful views!
I grew up in an ultra-conservative household and went to parochial school - earlier years didn't get much more racy than Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew. (I had very interesting fantasies about the boys, though....) I guess my first more juicy reading experiences were on an early high school trip with the band - I sat in the back of the bus with the boys in the low brass section and read their Playboy and Hustler mags.
Anyway - thanks, Jeremy and Helia! Such lovely, gracious hosts!
"Beautiful soup, so rich and green,
Waiting in a hot tureen!
Who for such dainties would not stoop?
Soup of the evening, beautiful Soup!"
- Lewis Carroll
EllaRegina said:
[Insert wolf whistle for Helia's plunging valley here.]
Don't look now, Helia, but there's a wolf in your fold!
Emerald said:
But she gave me the magazine, and I kept it around for about 10 years because a couple of those stories really seemed to get me every time. :)
And don't you find that good porn, like good wine, improves with age?
Heidi said:
Then, of course I moved on to the Hustler Letters under my brother's bed.
Did you actually read them under the bed, too?
Isabel said:
I'll try it with our porcini which we always run past the local experts
I think I've heard about this—the famous Porcini 5k!
Nikki said:
Lots of earthy shagging, as far as I can remember. And swimming pools, strangely.
Sounds like a good combination! You get all earthy, rolling around on the ground, and then you have some nice, clean aquatic sex!
Craig said:
I like to think of it as a rescue mission.
Not only that ... just think of all the work you were sparing the recycling crew. What a good doobie!
Kirsten said:
I was supposed to be taking a nap at my grandparent's house when I found my grandpa's Hustler.
You see—naps are good for you!
Maxie said:
Jeremy, you look smashing.
[Blushes; spills more wine.] Thanks! : )
Neve said:
I was in the library wearing some sports related outfit and it was if a light was turned on inside me.
Ms. Neve. In the library. With a ... flashlight?
Marina said:
I sat in the back of the bus with the boys in the low brass section and read their Playboy and Hustler mags.
Euphonia euphoria! Now that's what I call horny.
Mind if I skinny dip in a bowl of warm soup? Sipping wine of course.
We have 4 inches of snow already this morning - but I did get to sleep in and not have to go to my normal Wed. morning gig.
The soup smells delish and just the thing today! J & H, you are the host and hostess with the most and mostess!
And what arousing conversation! I loved EllaRegina's statement "I firmly believe perverts are born, not made."
As I let my memory wander far far far far far back, wait, even farther...
I loved fairy tales (oops, slipped and wrote tails at first, tehe), especially the darker ones - for some reason that trail of bread crumbs gave me a tingle.
One of the first books that I remember reading myself that gave me a thrill was The Secret Garden - oooo, the door in the wall covered in ivy ... shiver!
And does it solidify my perverthood to admit that I found many of the poems in A Child's Garden of Verses to be a turn on? Looking through my well-worn edition - ah, The Swing of course, My Bed Is A Boat, oh, I better stop here.
I had a serious crush on Prince Caspian, having read The Voyage of the Dawn Treader first.
Also there was a series of books that I've never been able to remember the name of - I checked them out of the library in the late 1960's (yeah) and they were Welsh - the names and place names were wonderful and the stories - retold Welsh fairytales? - were very erotic to my adolescent mind.
And yeah, there were the Playboys and Penthouses and even my mom's Playgirl - as well as other books she read that I snuck and read the "good parts" over and over again.
Anyone else here of an age to remember passing around (this was in early years of high school) the book Coffee, Tea or Me?, and The Godfather?
Well, I think I'll stop blabbering now and see what other wonderful comments have shown up while I've been busy reminiscing.
I'm having trouble remembering what substantive sex scenes in literature first grabbed me, and when. From a pretty early age, I was titillated by the idea of naked women, and by nonexplicit sexual episodes in things like the M*A*S*H books, and maybe science-fiction and suspense novels. I definitely got a thrill from the idea of people getting undressed and hopping into the sack, but I don't remember when I made the transition to relishing more detailed sex scenes. I think the first explicit reading I did was when a friend found his mom's copy of The Happy Hooker, and shared some of the "good bits" with me. I remember feeling smugly grown-up and appealingly transgressive about sneaking looks at the book, but I don't think I was actually turned on in any sincere way. At that stage, I guess I just liked the idea of being hip to sex. It's funny, because I was sort of an "early bloomer" in terms of hanging out with girls, hugging and kissing and having "girlfriends" ... but in all of this—from the girlfriends to the light sex scenes in books—I think my interest in sexuality, per se, was pretty superficial until I was practically an adult.
Oh, I loooove mushroom soup, so earthy and warming, with that frisson of danger from the knowledge they are wild. But of course, I trust you, Jeremy and Helia, and trust is true treasure at the heart of every sensual adventure.
The wine is delightful and I feel my tongue loosening. These wonderful posts have gotten me all curious and wanting to know MORE, but I'll start off with a little self-exposure (thank you, Helia, for the inspirational view of the valley).
The first turn-on I remember (doubtless there were earlier unrecognized ones) is when I read Gone With the Wind at the tender age of eight. I was a precocious reader, but there were a few words I didn't know, so I'd be there on my bed reading and I'd call out to my sister, "what does 'stays' mean?" Then one day Rhett and Scarlet were talking about the Yankees advancing on Atlanta, and I screamed out, "Hey, Ann, what does 'rape' mean?" She shushed me immediately and told me to ask my mother, although I'd already had "the talk" because of dirty word carved on the back of a seat on the schoolbus.
But while I was waiting for my mother to come home from work for the explanation, I was all tingly and curious. Scarlet was afraid the Yankees would "rape" her and Rhett assured her they'd want to, but probably wouldn't, with that sort of debonair way that let even an eight-year-old know that he wanted to rape Scarlet himself and, well, whatever that was, she'd probably enjoy it.
Not too much later, Scarlet's "bosom" was groped by one of the nasty Carpetbaggers in Shantytown, and the image of that male hand fumbling around in my bodice was definitely my first fantasy turn on.
Whew, I'm feeling pretty earthy after all that. Mind if I have another glass of Fishnet Creek? I'm so glad I wore my fishnet thigh-hi's for the occasion!
-laughs so hard she chokes on her soup-
I don't know which is better -- the yummy view, the hysterical banter, the delish soup or the witty comments. I'm loving this ... can I come to your house for the next episode? Please? I'll lick the dishes clean...
KKBB, s.
PS - My 'safe word' is whingi... Hehehe.
"Euphonia euphoria! Now that's what I call horny."
Classic! Actually, I played the euphonium for a while - and played with a euphonium player for a while as well! I love the embouchures of brass players!
Hi, Erobintica! We have a snow day, too. So Helia gets to stay home and do computer-based stuff instead of going to work ... and I get to stay home and do computer-based stuff instead of remaining in the house and cybercommuting. ; )
One of the first books that I remember reading myself that gave me a thrill was The Secret Garden - oooo, the door in the wall covered in ivy ... shiver!
I've always thought it was interesting that Nancy Friday's first (?) collection of women's sexual fantasies evoked the "secret garden" image!
Hi, Donna!
Yeah, I remember those "Mom, what does [ ] mean?" conversations! You know, like, "Mom, what does 'he relished the sensation of flicking lightly at the first woman's clit while pounding his swollen cock in and out of the second woman's ravenous cunt, as the third woman nudged his asshole open with the strap-on' mean?"
You see, at that age I'd never run across the word ravenous.
Erobintica, I had a crush on Prince Caspian too! Although at that age my crushes were part wanting to BE that person (I was tomboyish enough to mostly identify with males). Major crush on the fox Robin Hood (literal fox--Disney 1973 animated version), with his debonair demeanor and Ronald Coleman accent. (and he reminds me of Jeremy, or vice versa!)
And could your lost series be the Chronicles of Prydain by Lloyd Alexander? They are based on Welsh mythology (and just terrific). Characters include Princess Eilonwy and Fflewddur Fflam the bard.
Thanks everyone for all the kind words and interesting comments! I remember reading a few Playboys and Penthouses, but I was particularly intrigued by signs indicating how far sexuality interpenetrated (!) the adult everyday world.
And though I didn't know what that tingle between my legs was... I knew what sex was very early (8?) thanks to the educational books in the classroom library, whose collection I hoovered up as fast as I could. It was a very clinical and simplistic understanding, though--it took me the longest time to understand how pleasurable sex actually was. The books made it seem like a boring grown-up thing, just the means to the end of making a baby. Like taking out the trash or earning a paycheck. Whereas the nun in the Decameron said "all the other sweets that the world has to offer signify not a jot in comparison of the pleasure that a woman has in connexion with a man." :*)
Shanna, any time you want to whingi your way over here, the door is open! (Or maybe I should say "the window"—one probably whingis in through windows, yes?)
Same goes for all of you—whingi on over anytime!
Helia,
They could be (The Chronicles of Prydain) - I googled them and the dates are right. I remember the jacket art which is NOT what shows up now - but that says nothing.
Thanks!
Erobintica, the current covers are terrible--they focus on the high fantasy. Really the books have tons of humor, although the later ones get pretty dark. The 70s covers I was familiar with were more cartoony, but stylized, like these:
http://www.njyac.org/booklists/images/hp-alexander.jpg
http://media.us.macmillan.com/jackets/Wide/9780805061314.jpg
It's so funny, I can remember very clearly finding them on the shelf of the library - I can remember the light - I can remember the art on the cover - dark colors, blues and blacks and greens and purples - but I can't remember the title or author (and I don't think it was Alexander - my memory was of a name I couldn't pronounce) - the mystery continues. Though I may check out those books.
Hey Helia and Jeremy--
You two are alone in a house, imprisoned by snow drifts, and you're on the computer? Don't mind us guests, we'll help ourselves to more soup while you two slip off for a "rest"....
So, I'm back with more responses, oooh, yes, to this provocative discussion.
EllaRegina, I think the very sound of the word "spank" has its own magic power. You don't even have to know what it means! But in honor of our pop culture confessions, I still remember that episode of "Family Affair" where Jody's friend gets spanked and his parents say "it's because we love you." Uncle Bill hasn't ever spanked his charges, being an enlightened guy, but Jody worries that it's because he doesn't really love them. So he misbehaves and Uncle Bill learns why and finally gives him a symbolic spanking to show how much he loves him. Whew, I'll leave you all to conjecture how that plays out in my adult life.
Craig, I would certainly peg you as a gentleman who reads Playboy for the articles, and always has, but I read them for the advertisements! That is in my vintage collection from the late 1950s and of course December 1961, the month of my birth. Thank you, ebay, for enabling vintage porn collectors over the globe!
And Emerald, I so know what you mean about the visceral effect of really sick, perverted sex stories that we are not supposed to find arousing, lol. Good girl restrictions don't disappear once you break through the first barrier--they lurk like layers of an onion making sure our pleasure is spiced with guilt. But maybe the best thing to do with onions like that is to make some warming mushroom soup?
I'm chattering on too much, aren't I? Maybe it's the dual view our hosts are providing, but while this meal is somehow satisfying, it's also making me somehow ravenous!
As I read through the comments I found myself laughing at something Jeremy said and planning to quote it but then continuing on to something else he said that made me laugh out loud and realizing the first one was probably old news by now, lol. This is the one that really jumped out at me now:
You know, like, "Mom, what does 'he relished the sensation of flicking lightly at the first woman's clit while pounding his swollen cock in and out of the second woman's ravenous cunt, as the third woman nudged his asshole open with the strap-on' mean?"
You see, at that age I'd never run across the word ravenous.
LOL!
Donna said
"I'm chattering on too much, aren't I?"
:: Pausing to consider whether I have ever felt anything close to that sentiment about Donna... ::
Um, nope.
I still haven't seen or read Gone with the Wind, amazingly. I am fascinated by these accounts of early erotic reading. :)
I relate to Helia's mention that having a "crush" on someone at a very young age was intermingled with wanting to be like them. I don't know if I ever quite thought of it that way before, but the description definitely seems to ring some bells for me in a vague way. Now I'm trying to think of an example of such a character for me, lol, and am drawing a blank.
"while this meal is somehow satisfying, it's also making me somehow ravenous!"
Not to worry, six courses left. ;)
My recipe takes shaggy manes, (Coprinus comatus). Cut'em up and boil'em down, leaving some pieces to throw in, later, for texture. Puree the mess, with some added onion. Add some chopped up (and fried/drained) bacon (always a fine addition to ANY event) and add pepper and Half-n-Half. Throw in the extra pieces and heat almost to scalding. Turn it off, and slurp it up!
...just in from shoveling snow for the THIRD time today.... Please tell me there's more soup (fingers crossed and praying to soup Gods). Hell, I'll just eat a magic shroom and hallucinate until I'm warmer.
There was no sex talk at the dinner table I grew up at. Nope. My mom's form of Catholic birth control was to say, "no" to my dad. Yikes! Holy, sexual frustration. Is that crazy or what? I don't have children, but if I did, I'd certainly want them to know about sex. Healthy, fulfilling sex. Oh, I've said too much. Maybe I shouldn't have eaten that shroom afterall.
Now listen everyone, please travel safely tonight and I'll see you tomorrow for fish dinner in South America! ;-)
I've never been to South America, except the Disney version in "It's A Small World" where the fiesta continues all night and all day. (Yes, my mind is a mess of pop culture detritus!) I can't wait to see what Piscean pleasures you have cooked up for us, Neve!
Hi Donna,
You're so clever. :-)
When I visited Venice in the fall, I kept thinking it reminded me of Disneyland too. It just didn't seem real. Here I am in this beautiful place and my point of reference is Disneyland? Oh boy! I'm not nearly as well traveled as I'd like to be, or it appears as I should be, huh?
Roxanne is so excited to have everyone over to her beach bungalow tomorrow night for dinner.
Safe travels.
I feel kind of bad, how I ran in early, ate a bunch of delicious soup, then dashed away to fight the ice storm. So I’m back.
Um, is there any left? I brought my lucky spoon.
With such cool guests, how could I stay away!
Like Neve, I was bitten by the porn bug early, a evidenced by my little partial reading list. I was never nuts about Henry Miller either.
Jeremy, the Groucho line always works. It’s all in the delivery. You do deliver, right?
Helia, my mother (more on her later) once sat me down with a book that explained exactly what sex was. I'm pretty sure that was my "birds and bees" talk. It might have been the same book; it was drier than a brush fire.(Hey, that rhymes.)
Donna, you like old advertisements?! You’re too freaking cool! I used to have a collection of old Saturday Evening Posts from the 40’s and 50’s (not sexy, I know,) that were unfortunately lost in a basement flood some years ago. Seems I haven’t been able to hold on to many of my print collectibles. I do wish I still had my ‘60’s and 70’s Playboys. I had the one with Jimmy Carter’s “I have lusted in my heart” interview, which I got long after the rescue mission, among others.
Kirsten, I love your family story. Mine was fairly conservative, except for my father. My mother had a business, so she got a PO Box for correspondence. Only problem was, the prior owner had used the box for his “plain brown wrapper” mail. My mother brought a box of his stuff home and opened it, much to her shock, and then threw it out (no, I did not rescue it.) She later said to my dad, “did you see that awful porn that man was getting. He replied, in his usual deadpan, “yes, I read every last bit of it, and it was disgusting.”
Whew! I've been away from the party, too—shoveling prose!
As I read through the comments I found myself laughing at something Jeremy said and planning to quote it but then continuing on to something else he said that made me laugh out loud
Aw, thanks, Emerald!
Kirsten, any chance of rustling up some of those "big head bob" and "little head larry" drawings?
Hi, BadAssKona! Thanks for dropping by—with mushrooms, even!
Neve, Craig, and anyone else who's still hungry: There's always more soup! That's why it's called "more soup." (No, that doesn't really make sense ... but the point is, our ladle is your ladle.)
Here I am in this beautiful place and my point of reference is Disneyland? Oh boy! I'm not nearly as well traveled as I'd like to be, or it appears as I should be, huh?
That cracked me up!! I have not been to Venice, but I can see myself considering something that way if I had. :) I love Disney World (my childhood vacations as such were at the Florida version).
Looking forward to fish tomorrow!
Thank you again so much, Jeremy and Helia, for such delightful hosting! Double hugs to you.
(My spam word is "credishi." Doesn't that sound somewhat like a kind of mushroom??)
slurp. slurp. Sorry to be late, I had a pressing engagement...nonstop brainstorming for two weeks on Skype. I lost weight and can't walk properly, but I'm sure it'll pass (the former, alas, as well as the latter.)
My parents had a cupboard full of dirty books. The one I will never forget had a guy on the cover with a snake tattoo on his arm. He was a VERY BAD MAN and he breezed into a little town, arriving by bus (and the scene with the virgin on the bus is indelibly etched into my feverish brain) and proceeds to tangle with all the women and girls in the town. If I could find that book, I'd buy it.
Oh and my word is:congumbr which wounds like the kind of cucumber you'd put in congee...which i believe is chinese soup?
Thanks for having me Jeremy! And lovely to meet the Missus!
Nice meeting you too, Madeline! I remember a book that started with a sex scene on a bus--probably not the same one, but was the virgin asleep? Not that I remember the name or anything else about it, but that would be pretty funny!
Hi, Madeline! Thanks for slurping—I mean stopping—by!
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