Happy Lonely Consumer Victimization Day! The media outlets are abuzz with romantic tips, tricks and recipes to help you rope and wrangle the object of your desire. For its part, The Washington Post Food section offers a recipe for Man-Catcher Brownies (as tested, tasted and lovingly refined by staff writer Leigh Lambert).
It's a pretty basic concoction that produces twenty-four 2-inch blocks of fudgy goodness. Delicious, I'm sure -- if only I could get past the first ingredient: 12 ounces (3 sticks) of unsalted butter.
I e-mailed the page link to a girlfriend along with my commentary: "I fail to see how a recipe that calls for three sticks of butter could possibly help one catch a man."
"Um, I beg to differ," she wrote back. "Men LOVE LOVE LOVE butter."
"Sure -- in baked goods, not women. Unless you count bare breasts slathered with brownie batter. (What, you think they'd rather lick the bowl?) I guess Man-Catcher Brownies are meant to be given, not shared."
When I watch the Barefoot Contessa dump pounds of butter into her pots and mixing bowls it makes me wretch a little. I'm not sure who's been brainwashed -- she or me. Probably me... though I wouldn't be shocked to find Ina's Amazing Arteries in the cookbook aisle at Borders. Keep it up, Ina, and you might expire before your next batch of scones. (Man, I'll bet her shiva would be catered to the nines...)
But in the sage words of the prophet Woody, "The heart wants what it wants." Ina's heart wants fresh butter. Mine wants a little fresh air, so I've declared a moratorium on romance today. Dating is fun but for now, still basking in that just-out-of-prison glow, I need to keep things light. (My motto of late: "I ain't goin' back inside -- not for you, not for anybody!")
And now, since my office is closed and my neighborhood has finally been plowed, I'm going to express my abiding love for cashmere at the Bloomingdale's V-Day sale.
Ardor, chocolate, sweaters, sex... May you find and savor the thing that most floats your boat.