Hello my name is Kristin, and food turns me on.
I’m not ashamed to admit that a piece of red velvet cake has made my toes curl. That a béchamel sauce has found its way on my fingertips on more than one occasion, only to be licked off with the fervor of a young puppy.
I was once nicknamed the Hamburglar because of the unabashed sounds that came from my mouth whenever I was near a burger. I’ve looked longingly at macaroons in windows, whispering indiscretions to them through the glass. I’ve uttered deep guttural moans in public that have frightened strangers. My desire is real, it is carnal, and it will not be subdued.
It all started with my mother’s macaroni, better known as an orgy of cheese and carbs. When I was younger, I would sneak into the kitchen to pick the burnt edges with my fingers. My mother loved to pop my hand when I picked on food, so it was a moment of bliss and danger. I’d gladly suffer punishment for just a taste.
Fast forward a few decades and I’ve been on dates where the tiramisu in front of me turned me on more than the man sitting across from me. I wanted so badly to pretend that I cared about his day at work, but when I saw that dessert coming, I couldn't hear a word coming out of his mouth. A showdown was about to go down, and he wasn't invited.
I’m sure it bruised his ego to see more excitement on my face during my first forkful than I'd had at any point during our conversation. It wasn't my fault that he didn't order dessert!
"This shit is ecstasy!" I exclaimed, with a mouth full of cream. Dessertless he just starred at me blankly. I decided the next week things wouldn’t work out.
Food's become such a focal point in my life that recently, upon deep reflection over a bowl of pasta and moans, I realized I might have a problem. But it's not like chewing is some kind of an escape. It doesn’t fill the empty hole of a tattered childhood.
I just love to eat.
Maybe it’s the foodification of everything -- from celebrity chefs to blogs dedicated to the beauty of a great dish -- that’s intensified my need to nosh. These days food’s not just about sustenance. It’s been personified, photoshopped, then sexed up.
According to a recent story in The Guardian, some readers were scandalized when celeb chef Nigella Lawson was photographed with caramel dripping down her face.
Lawson archly denies that there is anything sexualised about the image – "it is simply rapturous joy in caramel"
The article goes on to make a case for caring more about what we put in our minds than our mouths. But I'd say a little gastro-porn never hurt anybody.
The smell, taste, and touch of food are just as sensual as a brand new silk teddy against the skin, which is why movies that celebrate the joy of eating are my erotica. The pounding of dough, the gentle peeling of vegetables, the sizzle of meat against oil -- it’s enough to drive a girl wild.
So, without further ado, here are some of my favorite naughty food film scenes of all time. Grab a knife land fork. It’s about to get kinky.
Yes Isabella Rossellini makes an appearance in this food-filled flick, but, if you ask me, the most arousing part of this film is the famed Timpano dish: a dense combination of rigatoni, marinara sauce, meatballs, salami, hard boiled eggs, provolone and pecorino-romano cheese, layered meticulously inside a pastry shell and baked until the dough is crisp and golden.
If masochism were a dish, this would be it. When two young brothers, played by Stanley Tucci and Tony Shalhoub, slowly remove the white ceramic casing over the Timpano, Tucci does what would only come natural to me. He takes both hands and caresses the outward layer, then bends down and, kisses it, lovingly. This is foreplay at its best.
The voluptuous Timpano temptress is then wheeled out in all its glory to a group of waiting diners. A knife slowly sinks itself into the beautiful brown crust, revealing layers of gluttony. My senses are heightened as the Timpano is slowly undressed, exposed. I want it all in my mouth. A woman’s eyes roll back in ecstasy upon her first bite, and I raise my wine glass, yelling at the screen, “I feel you girl!”
EAT, DRINK, MAN, WOMAN
When did beheading chickens and blowing air into them become so sexy? This flick is culinary voyeurism. It starts out with a bang, and just doesn’t stop. There is a rhythmic, almost poetic feel to Ang Lee’s “Eat, Drink, Man, Woman,” and never has a film’s opening mesmerized me more.
The painstaking labor of master chef Chu as he prepares Sunday dinner, his amazing and borderline kinky knifery skills and gentle coaxing of the edges of dumplings; it’s all as beautiful to watch as it is provocative.
If a table full of women slurping on noodles are your thing, run, don’t walk, and rent Tampopo. It's eating and Eros at its best. In one scene, when a novice asks the ramen noodle master whether he should eat the pork first, the master, responds, “No, just touch it. Caress it with the chopstick tips.”
While the dirty noodle talk ensues, the camera pans in on the silkiest, most beautifully placed bowl of noodles my eyes have ever seen. But, that’s not all.
In the film’s most memorable sexually charged scene, a gangster and his mistress pass an unbroken egg yolk between their mouths (look ma, no hands!) culminating into the young woman crushing the yolk between her teeth and letting the juice drip down her chin. If you find yourself inexplicably aroused and uncomfortable, welcome to my teenage years.
The list goes on and on, and so do my inappropriate reactions. Like I never knew quail in a rose petal sauce could get so many people off at a dinner table in "Like Water for Chocolate." Or that oyster juice flagrantly slurped could be so salacious in the food face-off scene in "Tom Jones."
For me foodie flicks are like stag films for the insatiable. They're the animal desire in my stomach that throws my healthy eating goals out the window every time I watch. Characters, plot, conflict of interest? They all go out the window. Once the food hits the screen, I’ve got a celebrity crush like you wouldn’t believe.
I searched high and low for that Timpano, but haven't found it anywhere. So my New Years resolution is to make it. I was inspired to eat ramen at every noodle shop in New York after watching "Tampopo," but settled on Top Ramen after consulting with my bank account.
But what about you? What's your favorite snuff film devoted to the art of swallowing?