Summer Sex and Love Songs

Listening:  Horrorshow, good ol' Commonwealth hip hop, have a listen, it's good: 

Eating:  Sleeman with lime, goat brie, bread (daaaaang, I love gluten)

Looking:  The smoking hot lake

Oh!  Why hello there!  It's been a while.  Welcome back.  It was bound to happen, me not showing up for a long period of time, I am terrible at responding to texts, and I hate to say it, but I am close to always late for everything.  I've been out and about the west coast of Canada, having a summer, and, I've been writing the meat of the cookbook!  Very excited, as there are only three more recipes to test, and then I think that will be all settled.  And by settled, I mean I will need taste testers.  I don't think it will be hard to find them, but hey, that's probably what Gandalf thought about the ring, amirite!?

(Look.At.This.Guy!)

Speaking of Lord of the Rings, I went to see Calvin Harris last Friday, and have a few battle scars leftover from that.  Great show!  The front rows of Electronic Dance shows do things to you, like make you look like you've joined Fight Club minus Brad Pitt.  This is who I am, somewhere in between, EDM, Lord of the Rings, and a great Beef Dip.

Over the past month I've had a lot of great conversations with people about both the cookbook and the blog, even a couple of strangers coming up to me at pubs knowing what I am up to, crazy, but crazy cool.  So here is a list, Buzzfeed tells me people love lists these days, so let me join the trend just for a minute:

(My answer for most everything).

A list of 10 things overheard about #SexandSandwiches

1.  "Is anyone having sex with the sandwiches?"

No.  Just. No.

2.  "Can you help me get my girlfriend to do anal?"

A random asked me this one.  First of all, props to rando for being so out there with his sexuality.  Second, no.  I can't.  That's between the two of you.  You can make her feel comfortable, and safe, and slightly buzzed and go from there buds.  I don't want to talk about stranger's bums.

3. "What do you think the horniest country is?"

I am going to just go ahead and say Germany.

4. "I think you can say that if you have Jewish heritage?"

I am having issues with deciding whether or not my writing is going too far in some cases, so I am getting blessings from an array of people.  Mostly from people who have no connection to specific situations, so I am not sure if it counts, but hey, it's got to count for something.

5. "That's not the best Christopher Walken impression I've heard, but it's not the worst."

Well, yeah.  I know.

6.  "Be Kurt Vonnegut."

If Kurt Vonnegut were a twenty something lady who sometimes wakes up with pizza cravings, and is dealing with life in the 21st century by writing about sex, then yes, yes I could be him.  I WOULD LOVE TO BE HIM, but, let's get real.

7.  "B*tches be crazy, bottom line."

A lot of people are crazy.  You don't have to be a bitch to be crazy.  Respect yourself, respect others.  Also, here's a great lil' remix about it by Jay and a fellow named DJ Green Giant:

8.  "Poor. Fucking. Dude."

Re:  The job of collecting turkey semen.  Because turkey breasts are so genetically enlarged, they are unable to have sex naturally.  So, a guy has to go around jacking of turkeys to impregnate the lady turkeys.  Keep this in mind if you're ever thinking about getting implants gals.

9.  "How do you cook pulled pork?"

If you don't have a smoker, I think crock pot is the best f'n way to go.  A version of this will be in the book.  Also, I can just e-mail you a recipe if you're keen on some juicy juicy pork.

10.  "Do you have the sex or the sandwiches first?"

Whatever you like.  I am an old fashioned gal myself.  Nothing better than a sandwich post coitus. 

(My Man Crush Monday forever eating a gyro).

So, today I read a quote on Instagram, because this is where most of my literature comes from these days, which read:

“I really hate this ‘your other half is out there somewhere you just got ta meet 

them’ like f#%k off.  I am a whole person and I don’t need anyone to ‘complete me’ 

the only thing I need is a pizza and not your shit.  Bye.”

Not the most eloquent thing ever written, but hey, sometimes someone just has to say it raw, usually someone from the Southern United States, Northern Alberta, or Australia, not that I stereotype sass. 

Speaking as a woman who has recently been told several times “Don't worry, you’ll find your other half,” I can attest to the f#%k off attitude.  Isn’t it fine not to be “looking” for someone?  If I am at home watching Netflix and eating a bag of cheezies to myself, are people wondering if I am being prescribed lithium?  I hope not.

I feel like in today’s scary world, people want to find someone who makes them feel safe, someone who can ground them, but also raise them up in a way which the general mill of society cannot.  Not that we settle, but, we as humans just don’t want to face the world on our own.  Hell, I don’t want to face the line at Chipotle by myself.

Maybe it is because I am in a pretty pessimistic state of mind this week, but if there are about 7.046 billion people in the world, is finding your soulmate by the age of 30 realistic?  Does it even matter?  As we age, do we just settle because we realize time is going by faster and faster?  Do we settle with someone because we feel guilty about how much time they have already devoted to us?

(If google says it, it must be true).

I am not one to give relationship advice, but I can say this:  Don’t let anyone ever tell you that you aren’t rad as f#%k. 

Oh boy!  What positivity!  What happiness!

I do believe in fate.  I believe that everyone who enters our lives does so for a reason.  Some are put there to remind you to use condoms, others, are put there to remind you what laughter is. 

I don’t think we should be looking for someone to complete us, rather, we should be looking for a partner that enhances all of our good qualities.  Someone who when you wake up makes you check your phone to see if they’ve messaged you.  Someone who you take photographs for knowing that the other person will like it.  And preferably, someone who doesn’t wear socks with sandals.  Unless they have a foot condition, in which case, keep those paws socked up.  Thank you.

I am not sure if there is one person for each of us, but I can assuredly say, if someone makes you happy, make that last as long as you can, because this world needs a little more happiness.  Love often, love well.

And, of course, love sandwiches.

Below are some photos of a couple of things I've been working on, both physically and mentally:

Above:  Butter Chicken Schnitzel Sandwich between Naan.  One of the few sandwiches I've tested that is ready to go first round.  I ate about five of these.  #bikinibodychallenge

Above:  I made this after a particular rambunctious (dancing like Beyonce) night out.  Homemade sourdough, pulled ribs, fried egg, avocado, tomato, bacon, homemade mayonnaise, dijon, and sirracha.  Let me tell you, I am no doctor, but take one of these and two Ginger Gravol, and you'll be good to go for the day.  If you don't have Gravol in your country, I am so sorry for you.  Please order some presently.

Steak Sandwich that I am testing for a story that involves a man who once invited me to shoot kangaroos and then proceeded to help me break my kitchen, and my roommate's shoe rack.  Because vodka.

A little change from the sandwiches, the makings for a Cioppino.  Made at probably one of the most beautiful places, during one of the best times.  Ever.  

Made this for a loved one's breaky.  A play on my most favourite breakfast in THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE: Blue Fox Eggs Pacifico Benny in Victoria BC.  IF you are ever there.  Get it.  And then tell me about it and make me jealous.  Poached egg, avocado, smoked salmon, scratch hollandaise, red onion.  

The sandwich that started it all:  Goat cheese, fried egg, basil, red onion, salami.  This, is love.   

Go out.  Prosper.  Party because you're young, healthy and hot.  And remember, relationships aren't like pizza; pizza, is like pizza:  A missing piece of pizza just means that you need to make better friends that don't steal your pizza.  

xx

-B

The Meat of the Matter: Salami, Texting, and Sexting

Listening:  Fleetwood Mac Rumours album, because I was raised properly

Eating:  Wine.  Salami.  Wine and Salmi.

Looking:  At a boat trying to dock before the rain comes (remind me to use this as a metaphor for something later)

First of all, happy Father's Day to all you Dads out there!  Secondly, happy "you're not a father day!" to all you other guys out there!  As a representative of the ladies, not all of them but some, you're welcome for taking precautions and then extra precautions for allowing you not to be a baby daddy.  You're VERY welcome.  

Remember, being responsible about contraception allows for you to be irresponsible with the rest of your life.  Go you!

(Yes).

So this week I've been working on writing out each story for each sandwich.  It's hard to schedule writing and actually make it funny, accurate, relatable, readable, etc.  So I've been doing a lot of editing, I am sure I'll be doing more.  By the end of this I'll probably throw my computer against a wall, but that's fine, technology ages, walls don't (DO NOT quote me on that, I have some professors who would be VERY upset that I said that about walls).

It's strange digging into memories trying to think of funny moments, more serious times, and little things that really didn't matter at the time, but really have made me who I am now.  It's kind of like a weird type of therapy.  A lot of the stories I am just laughing through as I write them, which I think is best.

(My reaction to most memories of my younger self).

So, this week, being a week where I've dug into the dredges of my memory, I've decided to talk about how the text is the closest modern day equivalent to the love letter.  Oh yeah, getting classy this week.  I am a sappy lady sometimes, not often, only sometimes, and I have all the letters I've ever gotten in a heart shaped box at my parents house (somehow, some condoms ended up in there which I think is hilarious because I didn't put them there.)

The first flirtatious letter I got came in my 11th grade at high school, on my doorstop, Christmas morning, with a bundle of my favourite cookies; white chocolate chip macadamia nut (I am a walking stereotype, I know).  This is the standard to which I have held all boys to ever since.  

Deep down, no matter what they say, all girls AND boys love (and deserve) a little romance.  We want to feel special, we want the mother fu**ing flowers, picnics, and some gad damn poetry dedications.  Maybe some cheese plates thrown in there somewhere.

Is it a lot of work?  Yes.  Do you have to do it all the time?  No.  Truly, the little things are the things that matter, but once in a while, get your Aladdin on, and take us on a magic carpet ride.

(Preach!)

This brings me to my next point:  Texting.  The modern day love letter arena, in some ways new and improved, and in others, meh.  

(Honesty is the best policy)

First of all, with all writing, no matter with pen or keyboard, it is important to remember we are all able to be versions of ourselves that we perhaps couldn't actually be in front of someone else.  We can put our best face on, control the conversation, and take time to think about what we're going to, or not going to say.  There can be pause for dramatic effect, emojis to really let it all out, or links to pictures of puppies to really pull at one another's heart strings.

(Michael Scott, my main GIF man)

My rule is for anything that is being said via text, or on the internet for that matter, "if you couldn't say it to someone's face, don't say it."  But with texting, it's hard.  So here are some tips on how to come across as a real human via your handheld mobile device:

1.  Don't be an asshole.  Be a gentleman/gentlewoman.  If you're angry, or want to have a serious discussion, pick up the phone, get your dukes out; lay it down face to face.

2.  Sarcasm is hard.  Unless you really know the other person's sense of humour and vice versa, maybe save it until you get to know them a bit better.  Or, on the other hand, test the waters and see what happens.

3.  Include incredibly honest messages out of the blue.  Out of the blue is always nice, unless you're speaking in on more "war" like terms, Austria knows what I mean.  And if the other person doesn't think it's nice, tell them to go down the freakin' yellow brick road and get a heart transplant.  

4.  If you said it when you were drunk, own up to it when you're sober.  Don't be a baby.  Either make light of the situation, or go balls deep into your emotions.  Because really, you never do know, and yolo and stuff.

5.  If someone doesn't want to give you their number, or communicate with you, don't push it.  Let's all be nice here, there are more fish in the sea, no need to be "stalky."

(Don't send anything that you're not comfortable with)

Let's go a bit deeper…

Sexting.

Yeah, it's a thing now.  I think for people who are good and comfortable with dirty talking to their partner, sexting can be a hoot, and can really make your date later that night a lot of fun.  Pretend you're soundtrack is Nina Simone's Feeling Good while writing these bad boys; own it.  Be bold.  Be confident.  Test those waters.  I am going to be writing more specifically on dirty talk at a later date, but essentially, have a glass of wine and give'er.  Maybe put an accent on when you do it, I don't know.  Maybe a Valley Girl accent, maybe a Cockney accent, maybe a Newfoundland accent.  If Pretty Woman taught us anything, it was that it's better to be too outrageous than under.  Play around.

Key point:  Make sure you trust the recipient.  Don't be a stupid person.

Saying that...

If you're sending nude photos, make sure you're sure you're 100% okay with that, and then maybe don't include your face in them at first.  I am personally not a fan of the "dick pics," but if you feel that's something that people will enjoy, go get em' tiger!  Have fun with them!  Be coy, don't be scientific.  That's not a game that is fun.  That's like the math flashcard type of "game" fun.  Find the right lighting, get some lipstick on, and get real comfortable with yourself.  But remember, once it's out there, it's out there.

Meat time!  This week I decided to test out a variety of salamis for sandwiches, hard work, I know, but someone has to do it.

I tested out 4 Salamis, and to mix things up I threw some pastrami in.  

Spicy Mortadella

This guy was delicious (I am going to say that about all of them, so get used to it).  It almost has a creamy texture when you eat it, and leaves a bit of a silky feeling in your mouth due to its higher fat content.  I prefer this guy when it is thinly sliced.  It's good on its own for a simple sandwich, but really good paired with a salami with a higher meat content.  Think of it as the Bono or Matt Damon of the Bologna world.  Talented and delicious.

Soppressata

This is my favourite type of pepperoni-esque salami to use on top of pizzas, and, it is also delicious slightly fried inside of sandwiches.  It is a bit of a drier cure, so it has a nice "chew" and is able to hold its own inside a sandwich.  It is oily in all the best ways and has a nice peppery flavour to go with it.  It's hung for about 12 weeks usually, and apparently you can make it at home, I guess if Beyonce has the same number of hours in the day, then it's a possibility.

Spicy Capicola

Nice large veins of fat in this guy which add a creamy texture to go along with the surrounding lean meat.  The meat used for it comes from the area on the neck, which I like to know because I like to know where exactly my meat comes from.  It almost has a slightly gamey flavour, and goes very well with a nice glass of Syrah.  It can hold its own in a sandwich as well, although you may be craving a bit more of an oily texture as well.

(Right: Genoa Left: Capicola)

Genoa 

This is probably what most of you think of when you think salami.  It's almost sweet compared to all the others, but does have a slight peppery flavour.  It is a good mix of fat and meat, and has an oily consistency without being overwhelming.  It's a beginner salami, but an old favourite none the less.  It's also almost always on sale, bonus!

And just for fun…

Pastrami!

This was purchased by suggestion of the deli attendant, and let me tell you what, I haven't been having sex lately, and this made me a VERY happy girl.  There are just some foods that really are just perfection, and this, this is it.  It's from the Mission Meat shop on Lakeshore Rd. if you're ever in Kelowna, and it is the best pastrami I have ever had.  It is like the red velvet cake of the pastrami world.  It has a very delicate beef flavour, with no lingering aftertaste.  Amazing.

Okay, I have to go watch Game of Thrones now before everyone on the internet tells me what happened.

Have good weeks, and remember, text like a hero.

Foccacia Bread and Lady Head

Listening:  Sam Smith (I mean, come on)

Eating:  Hot Chocolate with marshmallows 

Looking:  Twinkling lights across the lake

First, 900 views!  YOU GUYS!  Way to make a girl and her sandwiches feel like the King of the world!  Again, thank you. Here is a picture of a duck marching band to celebrate:

Well, something big happened this week.  Something that made my whole world stop.  I've only had one thing on my mind, and I am finding it hard to function until I know for sure that it's mine.  People have asked why I am acting so strange, they know something is going on.

It's Netflix.  

Orange is the New Black is back.  And I am getting a lot of good alias / pseudonym ideas for the characters and anecdotes in my book.  

(Yes.)

I am trying not to pull a House of Cards this round, as in, I am actually going to try and stretch out the series.  I think it will be easier since Kevin Spacey isn't in it, I have a weird attraction to Kevin Spacey.  My mother thinks it's unhealthy because of how well he played his role in Seven, and I am like "Mom, at least he had a hobby right?"  Then she looks at me and tells me to eat something.

Besides drooling at a t.v screen this week, I've been giving some thought towards my post last week.  And I think it's only fair, because of feminism, to write about lady bj's too!  Let's break the stigma down guys, no double standards in 2K14, woo!

(Donut sandwich coming at you next week).

I spoke with one of my most articulate and gorgeous friends this week, a woman who describes herself as someone who "predominantly bangs chicks," and she had some great insight into why we as a society view doing things to men, and doing things to women differently.  

"In a heteronormative sense, it comes down to how men and women are socialized.  Men are socialized to sexually preform, where women are socialized to accept and receive sex."  And it's true.  As much as you're grimacing and saying that the glass ceiling came down years ago; false.  We as women need to stop pussy footing (I was looking where to use that pun,) around what we think men want to hear, and what we need them to hear.  We need to communicate in a way that is not diminutive, rather, we need to express ourselves in a deliberate manner.  Change starts with yourself.

(This coming from the girl who knitted through Women's Studies classes, but I am okay with that, I got the gist, found a balance, and made it my own).

Now, let's get in to the fun.

To start, click to enjoy the following:

Now, here's the thing.  They're quite on point.  Let's break it down.

1.  "Chill on the clitoris."  Truth.  Women parts aren't like men's parts, we are, as the hit Avril Lavigne song puts it "Complicated."  (I really don't love Avril's music, but I like to throw her in the pile every once in a while to keep her and her eyeliner alive).  Mix it up, don't just think one thing will do.

2.  "Every bi*ch like her cunnilingus a little bit different.  Vaginas are like snowflakes, every snowflake is different, learn your b*ches snowflake."  Don't assume that all girls like the same thing!  Ask her what she wants, and keep asking.  Don't be scared that you'll seem lesser, you'll be seen as the opposite.  You'll be seen as a caring and thoughtful individual.  Real hallmark shit.

3.  "Vaginas deserve respect."  DUH.  This is usually as awkward the first time for us as it is for you, if not more so.  We're allowing you to get ALL up and personal with us, so don't be a weirdo, don't be crude, and communicate! 

4.  "Penis' is easy, and vaginas is hard." Yep. The amount of women I've talked to who have not been able to come via oral sex is numerous, most women are easiest to climax via a lil' hand job.  It yet again, all comes down to trust.  Connect with your lady, get to know her a little, and things will go much more smoothly.

5.  Finally, for the ladies, keep good hygiene.  Like, really, do.  There's a lot of stuff going on down there, and it's only fair to yourself and your partner to keep it nice and clean.  Wear cotton most of the time, wash daily. And use protection!  That's one thing the skit doesn't mention.  Well, maybe their outfit choices are their modes of contraception.  Although, for us Kevin Spacey lovers out there, it probably wouldn't help much.

There you go.  Some real cunty talk.  SANDWICH TIME.  (How's that for a good transition?)

This week I tried out a chicken hoagie I've been working on.  I made one a couple of weeks ago that was quite traditional, so this week, I went a bit more Italian, because Italians KNOW what to do with bread, meat, and sauce.  They are the Usain Bolt of bread, meat, and sauce.

 I made a foccacia loaf combining Ina Garten's recipe for pizza dough, and The Joy of Cooking's foccacia recipe.  It turned out quite well, but I hesitated on the oil at the end, which I won't do again.  The more olive oil, the better.  

I made some oven fried buttermilk chicken strips, which I do by melting butter in a high temperature oven, taking out the hot pan, and adding the breaded breasts to it.  Turning them halfway, it fries them very well, without the nasty smell or cleanup.  

Overall, very tasty.  Especially with a nice sriacha mayo and a zesty guacamole. 

I am going to keep working on this one for the book, as it was a request, but it's getting there.

And to end, I finally sorted out which anecdotes / people to go with which sandwiches.  As strange as it sounds, this has been the hardest part.  Choosing a theme for each story, then picking a recipe to go with it is ALMOST as difficult as bioengineering, and don't argue.

Well, I've got a hot date with a bath and some good ol' computer television.

That does not stand for electrocution; just happiness.

Have great weeks, and don't forget;  ask your snowflake what she or he likes.

xx

-B

Peanut Butter, Pork & BJ's

Listening:  Logic, Young Sinatra, Welcome to Forever  (Listen to his Five Fingers of Death Freestyle, then we'll talk)

Eating: Fresh Strawberries

Looking:  ALL the cyclists riding past my house in ALL the spandex


First of all, I just wanted to say thank you for all the positive feedback from you all!  It's been great getting messages from people saying they're actually digging what I am throwing out there.  Let's cross our fingers this continues…  Also, shout out to Panama and Israel for being such avid readers!  I am kind of shocked considering the amount of bacon I am using.


Here is a picture of two Fiat 500's surfing to celebrate 500 page views!

So this week I've been experimenting with nut butters, that is not a double entendre of any sort, it is  just the truth.  Trying to find the perfect peanut butter for the perfect peanut butter and jelly sandwich, because let's get real, there is nothing better than the perfect peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and a cold glass of milk. Unless you're allergic, in which case there is literally probably nothing worse, because you'd die.  But hey!  Look on the bright side!  Your cholesterol levels are probably great!  Good for you!


On a more positive note, let's talk about how easy it is to make peanut butter.  You throw some nuts in a food processor, some salt, oil, honey if you're feeling fancy, et voila!  I used Alton Brown's recipe and it worked perfectly, as Alton Brown's recipes always do.  I REALLY enjoyed the peanut butter, but at the back of my mind, I was still wanting that green lid, incredibly creamy, two bear, Kraft brand.  I still haven't found anything that beats it for PB&J, and it upsets me.  However, I am learning to deal with the fact that sometimes really bad for you, processed things, just taste better.  Don't quote me on that, because I am ashamed of it.

(Look at those smug bastards, they know they're the best and they don't even care to hide it)

Last night after some delicious pulled pork sammies, some friends and I had some summer patio drinks.  I am sorry if you're reading this from a cold climate, but winter has been here forever, and it's time to get a weather brag in.  Anyways, we started talking, as only girls who have had a couple of cold ones could, about hilarious nonsensical things.  I won't go into all the details, because nobody wants to hear all that shit, but a couple of things stuck out for me.

For one, we all decided that there are two types of men: 

1.  Previously chubby lovers

2.  Selfish lovers

Now, I don't want to be judgemental, but what's the point of a blog if I am not?  We came to the conclusion that men who have previously been chubby, are much more perceptive and willing in the boudoir than those who have previously never been chubby.  I dare you to disagree:

Kanye vs. Jay.  Jay.

Michael Cera vs. Seth Rogan.  Seth Rogan.

Ricky Geravis vs. Stephen Merchant.  Don't make me choose.

Louis CK vs. Prince Harry.  It's Louis.  And don't argue.

I am kind of curious if the rule applies to women, but I doubt it.  We're not as black and white when it comes to body image.  So, when we try to follow rules regarding it, we end up breaking them one thousand times and then going out for tea and yoga to try and restructure ourselves in a sweltering hot room next to the hairiest men you've ever seen.

Okay, enough generalizing for one day…almost.

The other thing that we talked about was of course the good ol' BJ.  The job of jobs, that, contrary to my young self's belief, does not require actual blowing.  If only it were that easy, am I right!?  

A lot of girls wonder what makes for a "good one."  I don't think there is an exact recipe, but there are a few things.  First of all, as always, asks what feels good.  Second, keep that guy nice and slick.  Third, use your hands.  And fourth, it helps if you've had a few drinks so you can be a bit loosened up and not as concerned with what instrument you're about to play.

I think the biggest thing though, is your gag reflex.  I am not sure if thats something you can (want) to change, but vodka helps.  You can also, rumour has it, tuck your tounge up to the top of the roof of your mouth to fake the back of the throat thing.  TMI yet?!

I am also amazed at hearing how few guys and gals use protection when going downtown on one another.  Things still spread even if they're not going into your lower holes guys: be smart about your bits, protect your lips.

(I am not sure how I am going to write a cookbook without the ability to import gifs to it, maybe it will be a 3D cookbook, who knows, still scratching out the details.)

Lastly, I'll describe the sandwich up top, in the style of Stuart McClean's Vinyl Cafe:

It was dawn.  The birds had yet to awake from their spring sleeps, their hearts slowly reverberating amongst the trees.  I stepped to the hardwood, knees creaking reminding me that time does not wait for the young.  I reached for my headlight, turning it on my eyes adjusting to the harshness of a false day.  Stepping down the stairs in a sleepwalk state, I slowly unwrapped the pork from its brown paper packaging.  A wonderful thing, meat packed in paper, it reminds one that there is still hope for a slower paced generation.  I mixed my spice blend, finally awakened by the scents of chillies, cinnamon, cumin, and maple syrup.  Slapping the mixture onto the animal, a yawn emerges.  Washing my hands, I head out the door to start the fire.  Of course, the most natural of instincts does not come easily, and I am catching myself cursing amongst the fiery red dawn.  Finally, I place the soft beast on the grill, its home for the next 10 hours.  It will be a good day, and it will be a good tomorrow.

Have a great Monday.  And remember, YOLO.

xx

-B