Last Friday night I lead a cooking demonstration for a group of Annie Birdie’s friends. As part as her bachlorette party, I was asked to head the demo. Due to the plague–or as Lilu has dubbed it, my combination of swine flu and tapeworm–I didn’t prep as much as I liked, but I definitely spent a good amount of time running through it in my head.
Thanks to your suggestions, I landed on something simple: burgers and fries. They say go with what you know and that is exactly what I did. The group said they felt this was something they could actually recreate and that was exactly what I was going for. Burgers were the perfect choice as I could demo knife skills (the onion and garlic) and just pass on general grilling tips. The fries were a huge hit, too. Nothing makes a group of women go more insane than the suggestion of sour cream as a dipping sauce.
The best part for me was how comfortable I felt in front of everyone. I wasn’t nervous or worried about screwing up. It certainly was not perfect or formal, but I just felt really at ease in front of the group as I rattled of tips and lead instruction. Seriously, Food Network, why don’t I have a job with you? My breasts are not nearly as scary as Racahel Ray’s and my attire is way more appealing that Guy Fieri’s. Sure, my apartment cannot compete with Ina’s house in the Hamptons but at least I don’t have a gay husband you will have to follow around. Give me a job, people!
After the demo and gorging ourselves on burgers, fries, and a delicious cake (made with coke!), we headed to Cafe Citron for some Latin dancing. Now, I am a dancer of the American sort; I like to shake my whooty and get low. Plus, I have never really recovered from the trauma of being motorboated by a very petite man while salsa dancing a few years back. (My asshole friends just stood in the corner and laughed hysterically…) I managed to cordon myself off and only got dragged away twice; once by a man with a kung-fu grip on my waist tighter than a teenager watching his first porno and another who reaked of bubble gum and kept jabbing me with his…excitement. I was actually endlessly amused by this as my cold was in full force Friday night; I shouldn’t have gone out but I could not allow myself to miss Annie Birdie’s bachlorette. The whole night I sniffled, coughed, and blew my nose on a paper towel in my purse; goes to show you if it has a pulse, some guy will dance with it…and that “it” was me this past weekend.
If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!
{ 42 comments… read them below or add one }
I am going to jab you with my excitement next time I see you.
Oh, a girl can dream.
[Reply]
I cannot deal with latin dancing unless I go with a partner of my own. I don’t like being forced to partner dance. (unless they’re hot, of course)
I freaking hate it. I am not above admitting that I dislike anything I don’t excel in.
[Reply]
Yay! That sounds so fun!
We were gonna go to Cafe Citron or my Bachelorette party but ended up at Rumors instead… I’m not quite sure how that happened but it was more fun than I thought!
Oh, good old Rumors…
[Reply]
not only are you breasts not as scary as rachael ray’s, your voice isn’t annoying and you (as far as i know) don’t use words like “SAMMIE!”
i fucking hate her.
You have heard my voice–you know it is not nearly as annoying.
[Reply]
I actually had to google ‘motorboarded’.
Friends who let friends be motorboarded are no friends at all. (I mean, unless you’re a guy, in which case, friends who block motorboarding are no friends at all). Alternatively, if you’re a cat …
Glad you had fun with the cooking demo, in any case!
Motorboat, my dear. Motorboat.
[Reply]
You’re a good friend for doing all that and then going out even though you felt like crap.
In case you need a cock blocker at a Latin dance place, just let me know. I’m quite the expert.
I love Annie–of course I would do this for her. She would do the same for me.
[Reply]
I do not like it when strange men jab me with their excitement. I do not like it at all.
You are no fun.
[Reply]
I’m having flashbacks to 8th grade dance with the song “I feel a little poke coming through on you…you’re making it hard for me”
clubs should totally start playing that song again.
Baby when we’re grinding, I get so excited…Oh, how I like it, I try but I can’t hide it….
[Reply]
A man who reeks like bubble gum? For some reason I find that so disturbing. Did he look like Willy Wonka?
No, no he did not. It was not pleasant.
[Reply]
You will always be my “it” HAHAHA! That is awesome, glad to hear the demo went well.
I was really pleased.
[Reply]
Me and dancing (american, latin, booty) dont mesh. But I do enjoy motorboating.
Aren’t you half Mexican, though? FAIL.
[Reply]
Only been to Cafe Citron for lunch, but the atmosphere definitely felt like nightclub that day.
You probably need to go do that stupid game show the Food Network puts on with talentless people in order to get a show.
Yes, you are right and I assure you, I would never make the cut.
[Reply]
You should totally be the next Food Network Star!
It is fun to dream.
[Reply]
The next morning, two spicy gentlemen practiced in the art of the “Forbidden Dance” were found dead of swine flu…
I am spreading the plague, one dance at a time.
[Reply]
Jabbing women with my Excitement is pretty much my favorite thing to do.
I mean, it is pretty awesome if someone wants to be jabbed.
[Reply]
I kind of want to marry Guy Fieri.. or however it’s spelled.
Really?! That surprises me, actually.
[Reply]
I don’t know about “anything with a pulse,” but at Tom Tom’s once, I did dance with a girl in full-on Amish clothing, complete with bonnet. And no, it wasn’t Halloween. It was May. And she was surprisingly aggressive.
A BONNET!!!! What was she doing at a bar? What attracted you? I have so many questions.
[Reply]
Hmm…I was at Cafe Citron on Friday as well, and I think I may have also run into those two gentlemen. Particularly kung fu grip. Oy.
I missed you…weird. That place is pretty small.
[Reply]
Ohhh, I had many a nights in that Cafe Citron basement, too, swishing my hips and pretending I knew a salsa step or two. Damn the mojitoes at that place! They wrecked me every time. And damn my girlfriends who also stood in the corner as every 5′5″ Latino man came and grabbed my waist or my hip or my ass and tried to grind up on me. Seems seeing a 5′11″ white woman being bamboozled by a man six inches shorter is quite the sight…
Hope you’re feeling better!!
I have never worn a low cut top out dancing again. Lesson learned. Why are our friends such jerks?
[Reply]
I would totally watch you on the Food Network. You even have the perfect name for your show! “Culinary Couture: The Dinner Party Of The Damned”. Truly, it doesn’t get any better.
Also, I’m very impressed that you not only made it through the demo, but made it out. Colour me impressed.
I am a masochist it seems.
[Reply]
I love it! I would totally watch you on the Food Network. This should be the start of a new career.
God, how much would I love that?
[Reply]
I dance salsa but dammit I can’t motorboat or rub a hard-on against a woman’s ass while dancing salsa. Those men must be salsa gods….. or not.
Maybe you can teach me to salsa. I don’t care if you laugh at me.
[Reply]
Hate Rachel Ray; want her job.
Here here.
[Reply]
The fries were a huge hit, too. Nothing makes a group of women go more insane than the suggestion of sour cream as a dipping sauce.
And nothing makes me spew coffee all over my poor keyboard like lines like that.
a delicious cake (made with coke!)
Speaking of lines, I’m pretty sure I never even met someone who tried snorting a cake.
My Tivo patiently awaits The Dinner Party Of The Damned.
had to google ‘motorboarded’.
It’s like a cross between a propeller-beanie and a mortarboard. For deeply geeky graduations.
Yes, yes, I am full of innuendo and double entredre, even when I don’t even meant to be.
[Reply]
If motorboating is wrong….
Anyways, so why don’t you tape yourself making some meals and post them then? THAT would be cool, for people like me who can’t follow cooking instructions but can pay attention to moving tiggs…
wait
I have thought about it, but it is hard to rope someone in to taping… and I don’t want pervs ogling my tiggs. Wait, who am I kidding? I don’t care about that.
[Reply]
Your blog is so funny! I’m reading the older entries at work and it’s totally getting me through my day…
Aw, why thanks. Glad it is helping.
[Reply]
Hrm, was there double entendre beyond the coke thing? Tons of hilarious images in the post, in any case. Oh, the dipping sauce… hrm, that’s a bit of a reach even for this lot. Well sure, why not.
Forgot these bits:
- The idea of salsa dancing with a 5′11″ woman makes my heart race a bit. Tall women are a rare and wonderful thing.
- The idea of an aggressive Amish girl at a bar makes my brain strip a gear.
- Aren’t you half Mexican, though? FAIL. Made some chile seco once (slightly embarrassing story for another time) and offered some to my Mexican neighbor who loves to cook. He said chile seco is too spicy for him. I told him they’d revoke his Latino status if he talked like that too much.
I thought you were saying the sour cream was…and I didn’t mean it to be. Yes, tall women are v rare. I was next to an AMAZON walking to work today. I was envious.
[Reply]
You should totally be on the Next Food Network Star reality show. I would break my No Voting rule for reality tv and vote for you.
I am honored.
[Reply]
I would hire you if I had a TV station.
Also I love making home made french fries. THE BEST.
Making fries at home is so easy, too.
[Reply]
ahhhh cafe citron. with your wee little dancing men. it is not a place for 5′8″ women who enjoy wearing heels, i’ll tell you what.
Yeah, you are a giant there.
[Reply]
I’ll tape a few episodes if you come for Christmas. Good for you b/c you then have them and good for me b/c I won’t have to cook. It’s a win/win for all!
Everyone is a winner indeed.
[Reply]
This post is strong with funny allusions. You have my compliments.
Why thanks.
[Reply]
Ah. Motorboarding must be when they dump a glass of ice water down your chest, then.
Ding ding!
[Reply]
Anytime I think of Latin Dancing I always think of Gloria Estefan and Miami Sound Machine.
I’m not sure what this says about me.
It says you are awesome.
[Reply]
I don’t know why men treat women differently dancing than they would in the real world. I once went to the Matzoh Ball at the now defunct LuLu’s. A Russian guy with a very think accent grabbed me dancing and said “You have nice pelvis.”
My friends wouldn’t save me either. We need better friends.
Seriously?! Who are we hanging out with?
[Reply]
Maybe you can teach me to salsa.
Of course but we must find a way to have your tiggs at the plane of my face for I must master motorboat salsa. Your story has inspired me.
Such a romantic you are.
[Reply]
Such a romantic you are.
You are not the first woman to say this
sarcasticallyto me.Sure I will not be the last, either.
[Reply]
The visuals you’ve described are both alarming and fantastic. I hope someone got it on tape.
Not captured on tape, thank god.
[Reply]
Totally think you should have Rachael Ray’s job. Leaving aside discussion of other assets, your recipes are better than hers too.
I will take her job.
[Reply]
Watching a friend get motorboated in a nightclub is roughly akin to watching them take a comical but non-injurious spill – it’s fine to laugh as long as you intervene after an appropriate amount of embarrassment has occurred.
Oh, it was comical alright.
[Reply]
I willingly subject myself to motorboating when I wear heels to the recovery club. There’s two older men that live for it. Who am I to deny them?
You are a giver, k8.
[Reply]
id totally DVR you if you were on the food network.
(ps- is that your kitchen?)
Nope, I need to take pictures for Julie, actually.
[Reply]