A Distinctive Woody Shrub

“Rosemary is a distinctive woody shrub, Rosmarinus officinalis, that grows in the dry Mediterranean scrublands, with leaves so narrow and tightly rolled that they look like pine needles. It has a strong, composite scent, made up of woody, pine, floral, eucalyptus, and clove notes. In southern France and Italy it traditionally flavors grilled meats, but it can also complement sweet dishes.”
--On Food and Cooking, The Science and Lore of The Kitchen, Harold McGee.

Eating the Piney Dew
--BAK

Rosemary. Why did her parents give her that name? Rosmarinus, “dew of the sea.” Why am I eating her, now. The dangerous alleyways, the filthy brick walls where I buried my hand in her poured-on jeans and found her damp bud; I think of this when the greasy lamb passes my lips. I think of her wild black hair, framing her olive skin, ringlets across her rising breasts, pink blossoms beneath her feet. Fences, train cars, garbage bins, bridges, swings in the park, high rise windows -- our playground when we were in high school. But, her name and her flavor were of wilderness. Rosemary, my forest, my tree whore, my penetrating flower…why did she leave me?

Perhaps it was the idea of her that, in fact, drove me away from her. The scent of her drove me away, to search for the primal essence of her amongst the rocks and flowers so far from where we grew up. Pine, clear in the snows of mountains, rubbed between my fingers; clove, cinnamon, pressed into my orange-rind skin; eucalyptus, the oils swimming across my skin: the heady, delirious, intoxicating idea of her made me leave. I wanted her as I drove out of the city, and I knew I would find the totality of her and the depth of who she was in the gardens of my culinary travels.

And so, now, I am eating her again and again. Her strong scent, her tightly rolled form, her narrow body is fodder for my lips and salivating mouth. I am eating her name. I am eating Rose and I am eating Mary. I am eating both of them and all of her, a thin memory of drool running down my bare chest. I savor her bitter parts and her emerald whole, her bouquet of swirling smell and sharp strong bite. My hand reaches for her again and again, rubbing her, releasing her, releasing her pungent delicious odor. She has become me. In her leaving, in my banishment to the dark woods, I have found obsession and craving and unrelenting hunger.

Hungry? Cum into my Kitchen.

Bacon-Wrapped Shrimp
Adapted from Contessa (Naughty slut)

12 ounces of fresh, juicy, well-endowed, uncooked, shrimp (prawns)
Freshly ground black pepper, long in its hardened orbs
1 T. of fresh Rosemary (harvested naked at dawn, while the dew is glistening and licking the toes), chopped
Balsamic vinegar
10 strips of marbled bacon, cut in half-lengths, before erection
Bleu cheese, rich and acrid

Steps:

Strip naked and preheat broiler
Put Michael Franks' "Barefoot on the Beach" on the sound system
Liberally apply virgin olive oil to skin
Pour a cool glass of rosemary/lime-infused Bombay gin

Place shrimp on baking sheet and sprinkle with black pepper, balsamic vinegar and rosemary
Wrap each shrimp, individually and lovingly, with half strip of bacon and secure with sprig of rosemary
Broil for about 3 minutes on each side, while dancing
Serve, with sprinkle of bleu cheese and a smile

______________________

Rosemary is a flowering shrub that has contributed its leaves and stems to many aphrodisiac recipes. Oil from its leaves and flowers have been added to love potions and perfumes. Bouquets of rosemary, “emblematical of manly virtues,” were once presented to bridegrooms on their wedding mornings, and bridal beds are still bedecked with the flowers, in some European countries, to ensure conjugal bliss. The herb has a very old reputation for improving memory and has been used as a symbol for remembrance. Shakespeare had Ophelia present a bunch to Hamlet, to remind him of their meeting on St. Valentine’s Day.

Rosemary has been used as a love charm, in Europe, since the Middle Ages. Newly wed couples would plant a branch on their wedding day. If the branch grew, it was a good omen for the union. Placing a sprig under the pillow, at night, will ward off witches and repel nightmares.

Which….brings us to our discussion topic: What foods do you fix for a lover as a special act of love?

Thanks, ladies and gents, for stopping by for another Sunday Spice adventure, organized by Donna George Storey and Marina St. Clare

Here's the rest of the lineup!

8/16 Emerald
—poppy seeds

8/23 P.S. Haven
Haven—salt

8/30 A luxurious adieu!