Wednesday, October 17, 2007

where delicious meets nauseating ...

here i pretend like i'm going to actually eat this dirty sexy cakey bread substance.

every once in awhile, something comes along and you struggle to answer the question: is this really awesome, or is this totally disgusting? as strange as it seems, some things are so one-or-the-other that it is impossible to discern which extreme it actually is.

in high school we had a name for boys who fell into this specific genre. they were dirty sexy. if a boy was dirty sexy, you wanted to make out with him despite the fact that he seemingly washed his hockey hair in a vat of french fry grease and you aren't completely sure that the acne boils on his chin won't explode on contact. yet, there was something a little hot about him, so you if given the option you would definitely risk a grease and puss-stained shirt.

blue cheese is dirty sexy. you are literally eating rancid cheese, something you would throw away if you found it beneath the seat of your car or between your toes. but it tastes good, hearty and strong flavored. or does it taste good? my own body odor comes to mind as something i enjoy but am disgusted by. i went through a span of time this summer when a foamy bar of caress soap made me smell exactly the opposite of how i wanted to smell [ie: clean]. it was so terrible that it was great. throw a short run into the mix, and the magic really happens. or something.

the writings of chuck palahniuk are dirty sexy. some people have passed out when he reads the short story "guts" aloud. yet, so intreguing when the guy gnaws through his own intestine to avoid drowning ...

i bet that mushrooms fall into this dirty sexy category. but, as i will never consciously eat one on purpose and if one sneaks into my food on accident I WILL KNOW, we may never know for sure if they are dirty sexy. when you dissected a frog in 10th grade? dirty. sexy. eating a fried egg sandwich for dinner five nights in a row? sexy. sexy. sexy. sexy. UGH, DIRTY SEXY!

juicing, i've found in the past few days, is dirty sexy. i'm waffling: i can't tell if i love it or hate it -- and by "it" i'm talking about everything that happens from the moment i flip the switch until i finish drinking the 40 dollars worth of produce i've purchased in the past three days. i already know that cleaning the juicer is not dirty sexy, it is simply a multifaceted pain in the ass. [on sunday, in my first go round with the juicer, i was so in awe of the whirring and juicing, that i forgot to put a glass to catch the juice beneath the spout. this resulted in raspberry-colored art on my countertop, stove, floor and shirt. this was just plain, old dirty.]

parts of juicing simultaneously fascinate me and creep me out. for instance, jamming a carrot into the juicer makes a sound that is a little too similar to the sound of my finger falling into the juicer. and where does all that carrot juice come from? carrots do not strike me as a juicy vegetable. i've never, like, eaten a carrot and had to wipe orange stains from my chin. yet, one carrot makes a decent amount of liquid. this makes me think my finger would, too.

apples are the most pedestrian thing to juice. almost every recipe calls for at least two apples and there is nothing really significant about liquifying them. pears are a little more satisfying, but not much. blueberries are disgusting. they leap out of the chute, they splatter. it looks like a crime scene. lemons are decent, but don't take long enough to really settle in and enjoy. cranberries are about perfect. for some reason, oranges make me gag. today i juiced a half inch of ginger root, which reminded me of sushi, which is -- a dirty sexy food i like to eat and not drink.

as for the taste: more confusion. i think i like it. but why am i wincing, damn-near plugging my nose like a first-time beer drinker? especially today when i created something lime green out of two apples, two pears, the aforementioned ginger root and a dash of cinnamon. these all taste good. and they taste good juiced. but drinking it felt like a chore.

yesterday i made something with carrots and apples and cranberries and whatever else. i took the left over pulp and skin and grated stuff, mixed it up with flour, baking soda, baking powder, eggs, etc., and decided to see if i could accidentally turn dirty sexy juice cremains into a fantastic cakey bread-like substance. kind of delicious. kind of nauseating.

it didn't rise. it stayed moist. the flavor: meh. i can't tell if i like that, either.

7 comments:

fannie said...

I'm not sure i agree with such liberal use of the term 'dirty sexy'. It kind of takes Derek Held down a notch.

L Sass said...

While making your own juices is certainly cost effective, I think the dirty sexy factor definitely justifies sticking with the juice bar near my work. At the bar, I can just avert my eyes when the massacre all the poor fruits and veggies.

christina said...

fannie, i think it is about time you finally get over derek held. seriously.

sass, juice bar. what a pretty-sounding place. lucky, you. we just have bar-bars here.

Flenker said...

Now how can sushi be dirty sexy? I thought it was just downright sexy. Does that make me dirty?

Flenker said...

ps - my word verification for that last comment was aaszsphyn. I pronounced it "ass fine." You must've known I was posting.

and yes, I occasionally try to pronounce the word verification thing.

ceecee said...

This is hilarious.

Anonymous said...

My old roommate used to make beet juice in his juicer. You throw one apple in with that as well.

One day, he started howling from the bathroom. I ran in to see what was wrong with him. He claimed he was peeing blood and needed a doctor. We took him to the doctor, who explained to him that drinking beet juice not only turns your urine red, it cleans the puss and scar tissue off of your liver.

Please begin experimenting with this immediately.

--Quackers