Everyone's got their favorite ""Seinfeld"" episode. Mine, without a doubt, is the one where George tries to eat sandwiches while having sex with his girlfriend. His lady friend catches him, but not before George develops a dangerous sexual response to the smell of pastrami.
Most of you probably figure I fantasize about such a combo—food during sex. Unfortunately, in my experience I've found the presence of food destroys any chance for sex.
I tend to struggle with graceful eating, ruining any suave tactics I may have. I also find that the disturbing smells emanating from the mouth immediately following a meal are not a ""chick magnet.""
Add to that my compulsive tendency to overeat, and by the end of dinner I'm usually fighting off a food coma—most men at least wait until after orgasm to rudely fall asleep.
For the most part, however, food competes with sex for my energy and attention, and food usually wins. That ice cream sundae promises instant gratification, no foreplay with the fudge required. And once I'm finished, I can move on, no strings attached. Well, except my impending obesity, but you can get fat after marriage, too.
I don't consider this preference for decadent cuisine over sex a flaw, but with the feature on food and sex this week, I decided I'd do a little research at Borders and see if I could achieve that ultimate duo.
The first step to sexual health, I learned, was a sound diet. This means lots of fresh fruits, vegetables and lean protein.
Moreover, fried foods, excess sugar and high salt can all lead to a lack of interest in sex, and ""pleasure drugs"" such as caffeine and alcohol can further inhibit sexual interest.
I question the logic here, however: Who says this lack of interest has to do with health? What if sugary, fatty foods are just so tasty that I forget about my penis altogether?
This dietary advice is bad news for me. It means that I'm horny as a 15-year-old after breakfast on a Tuesday. By the time weekend ""sexy time"" comes, I'm gorging on McDonald's and High Life and have the libido of Bob Dole.
I didn't feel any more optimistic after reading about specific foods—aphrodisiacs—that can boost sex drive. The classic, the oyster, is just gross. I like licking and slurping as much as anyone, but I see absolutely no resemblance to female genitalia here. And asparagus, another supposed aphrodisiac, just gives you smelly pee—how is that attractive?
Hot, spicy foods are supposed to make you flushed and ready for a romp. I'm reminded of the last time I ate a jalapeAo: I was in tears, ready to squirt ketchup on my disintegrating tongue A¡ la ""Dumb and Dumber.""
Many sources I found recommended wine or champagne as a good way to raise sexual energy. I would disagree—from friends' stories I've gathered, nothing is more romantic than the caustic burn of Fleischmann's.
I did find a few possibilities. For one, I learned that the Greeks referred to the tomato as the ""love apple."" Could it be coincidence that I started liking tomatoes around fifth grade, right about the time I became known as the ""fully-grown kid""? I think not.
Apparently the smell of pumpkin pie is also a powerful aphrodisiac, and boy do I love pumpkin pie. But I doubt this will work for me—I'd end up completely distracted by the smell, wondering where the hell the pie was.
I'm not completely discouraged, though. Just about everything I read stressed that anything—any food, any meal—can be sexual.
I learned that cooking nude (with a partner) can be an erotic experience, but a bit dangerous. And I received the most important advice of my life: When trying to find foods to use during erotic experimentation, ""think cucumber instead of broccoli."" Whew, that saved me from a huge mistake.
Best of all, relationship and sex experts say that the most erotic, sexual, exciting and enjoyable experience is having good food with a good partner. And, call me a hopeless optimist, but I think there's a girl out there who will think my odd foodie obsession is cute—smelly asparagus pee and all.
