By Mary Ann Cook
This being the season of hearts and flowers and valentines and other lacy considerations, I thought I ought to come forward with what I know on the subject. So, as a public service for singles, I'm offering some strategies that have been passed on to me. Unfortunately, these aren't suggestions for meeting people but what to do once you've found an appropriate target, or even before.
For starters, you need to redecorate your bedroom. One of my advisors contends that's the surest way to start an affair of the heart. This project, she advises, predates even the finding of a deserving partner. She feels compelled to refurbish the setting before even thinking about the players.
She repaints the walls in a sensuous skin-tone color called, oddly enough, sensuous skin, and adds a new rug. The rug has a lengthy, luxurious nap, a nap so thick one can hide in it if the proceedings should need the added titillation of hunt and peck.
And, of course, she invests in silken sheets. She doesn't buy actual silk sheets because those can produce unfortunate results, such as uncalled-for slippage at pivotal moments--clearly the result of one's sheet choice rather than one's own or one's partner's dexterity.
With the image of a duo in mind, bedspreads purchased are inclined to be more geometric (male) than floral (female) and more flamboyant than formerly. Refurbishing, she has found, speeds up the process of acquiring and cultivating a new friendship. For her, redecorating smooths the romantic route, helping glide the action from living room to bedroom.
Another informant regularly drops weight before deciding on her next objet d'amour. She calls it getting down to her hunting weight. After all, both body and surroundings will be newly on view. And one tends to acquire more confidence as the pounds drop off or are added, whichever is deemed necessary. She also changes her hair color, another tip-off that she's on to a new adventure.
Still another kiss-and-tell crony concentrates on the kitchen, using food rather than furniture when she's ripe for ravishment. She has refined the art of the seduction dinner. When someone new catches her fancy, she begins to mentally make a shopping list.
After the courtship is well along and everyone is comfortable with the new arrangement, she issues a dinner invitation and puts her trust in her faithful menu. Nothing as old-fashioned as oysters, that time-honored aphrodisiac, but she does head for the fish counter--for clam juice and anchovies. Her fish dish isn't even fish, but faux fish. It's actually chicken.
Well, OK, chicken breasts, for those who insist on being anatomically correct. These boneless plumpsters are then pounded to within a quarter-inch of their former lives, marinated in clam juice and, after this bath, sautéed briefly in butter, with or without a cracker crumb/flour coating. In this guise, they look and taste like abalone, which, as you know, is very hard to come by and when found, 'tis dear.
Faux abalone, then, is the key ingredient, the flagship of the campaign, 'round which hover all the other craft. Asparagus is the vegetable of choice, hard to find off-season, but worth the search. Twice-baked potatoes--mashed, stuffed back into the shell and toasted briefly under the broiler--by all means. The salad is a Caesar, with anchovies. Don't hold the anchovies. Greens dressed with vinaigrette and crumbled blue cheese can substitute if pressed. Either anchovies or blue cheese should be present.
Appetizers must be inviting mouthfuls to be pulled effortlessly from oven or refrigerator. And prepared by someone else. These take more time and patience than one should invest, even for a new romance. My informant skips them altogether, but that may be a mistake. After all, it's a chance to show how intercultural you are. Greek dolmas, Thai spring rolls, Chinese pot stickers--you get the idea.
Cherry pie is mandatory, as in the song "Can she bake a...?" Whether the song inspired the inclusion, or whether the appreciative murmurs that greeted this pie's arrival at the table convinced her it is crucial, is open to conjecture. She's decided it's essential. Something about that drop of almond seasoning seems to clinch the conquest.
Wine? Well, he may think to bring the wine. But my tutor suggests having a cab or chard at the ready in case his taste (in wine) is questionable. Now, what if the honoree is a vegetarian? We'll get to that next time, but it has to do with eggplant slathered with olive oil. We'll also get into nonculinary uses for the leftover olive oil. Bon appetit!
Mary Ann Cook is a frequent contributor to the Los Gatos Weekly-Times.
This article appeared in the Los Gatos Weekly-Times, February 12, 1997.
©1997 Metro Publishing, Inc. All rights reserved.