Better Than Sex
I came across a recipe site today and was browsing through it, because I love to cook so much. Quit laughing. Okay I can't even say it with a straight face.
If someone would come to my house and prep all the food, measure it, and put it out on the counter in those cute little ramikins and then clean it all up afterward I might like to cook. Maybe.
But I was browsing through the dessert section. And I came across a cake that had several different versions, but they all had the same name: Better Than Sex.
Not Almost As Good As.
Not Goes Well With.
But... Better Than Sex.
My interest was piqued. Imagine a cake that is so good one would feel confident giving the name Better Than Sex. I couldn't wait to read these recipes and see what the ingredients were that made these cakes so special.
And I briefly wondered if this was food fit for children. I am pretty sure that I never had an orgasmic food experience as a child.
I read the first recipe and I was disappointed. Not only did it not sound Better Than Sex, it sounded pretty gross and contained things like canned pineapple and chopped coconut. And there wasn't even chocolate in it.
C'mon... no chocolate??? I wondered about the poor soul who had named this cake Better Than Sex. Clearly they were lacking in their sheltered life.
But there were others, so I still had hope. I read the Better Than Sex II recipe. It was sent in by a woman named Ginger, which I can only hope is a pseudonym, for her sake.
Ingredients:
1 box French Vanilla Cake Mix
1 carton Frozen Strawberries
1 box French Vanilla Instant Pudding Mix
Cool Whip
Oh Ginger, honey, you really need to get out more.
Then I moved on to recipes III, IV, and V.
At least these three contained chocolate.
The IV one showed promise for a few moments when I read:
Until I realized that the author of the recipe meant I was supposed to spread these things on the cake.
I am wondering what Rob's reaction would be if I greeted him with one of these cakes when he returns home from his trip in a few hours.
'But honey, it's Better Than Sex! Really. I found it on the internet and you know you can believe everything you read online.'
If someone would come to my house and prep all the food, measure it, and put it out on the counter in those cute little ramikins and then clean it all up afterward I might like to cook. Maybe.
But I was browsing through the dessert section. And I came across a cake that had several different versions, but they all had the same name: Better Than Sex.
Not Almost As Good As.
Not Goes Well With.
But... Better Than Sex.
My interest was piqued. Imagine a cake that is so good one would feel confident giving the name Better Than Sex. I couldn't wait to read these recipes and see what the ingredients were that made these cakes so special.
And I briefly wondered if this was food fit for children. I am pretty sure that I never had an orgasmic food experience as a child.
I read the first recipe and I was disappointed. Not only did it not sound Better Than Sex, it sounded pretty gross and contained things like canned pineapple and chopped coconut. And there wasn't even chocolate in it.
C'mon... no chocolate??? I wondered about the poor soul who had named this cake Better Than Sex. Clearly they were lacking in their sheltered life.
But there were others, so I still had hope. I read the Better Than Sex II recipe. It was sent in by a woman named Ginger, which I can only hope is a pseudonym, for her sake.
Ingredients:
1 box French Vanilla Cake Mix
1 carton Frozen Strawberries
1 box French Vanilla Instant Pudding Mix
Cool Whip
Oh Ginger, honey, you really need to get out more.
Then I moved on to recipes III, IV, and V.
At least these three contained chocolate.
The IV one showed promise for a few moments when I read:
While hot, poke all over with meat fork ... and drizzle with
sweetened
condensed milk... Spread carefully with 1/2 jar of Mrs.
Richardson's
topping. Spread with whipped topping. Sprinkle top with crushed
toffee bars.
Until I realized that the author of the recipe meant I was supposed to spread these things on the cake.
I am wondering what Rob's reaction would be if I greeted him with one of these cakes when he returns home from his trip in a few hours.
'But honey, it's Better Than Sex! Really. I found it on the internet and you know you can believe everything you read online.'
2 Comments:
The same thing was touted regarding "Krispy Kreme" doughnuts when they came to Seattle. I made a solemn vow, then and there, to never indulge in them!
My hubby makes a Grand Marnier souffle, which, though seductively scrumptious, still can't compete with "you know what"!
Hmm I might consider having sex followed by cake, or even sex while eating cake but not INSTEAD of sex!
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