Stuffed Jacket Potatoes
Baked potatoes, halved and flesh removed, stuffed with bacon, feta cheese and garlic. Topped with wholegrain mustard, melted cheddar cheese and pepper.
Considering the kinds of meals I rustle up, I shouldn’t have been surprised at the miserable attempts made by KFC Paarl this morning. But that’s for another piece, this one is about the absolute taste porn described above.
Normally I deep-fry the fleshed potato halves, but that seemed like overkill tonight, and I’m glad I didn’t – this one worked a treat with the new tweaks. Food like this should be described with such monikers as ‘hugs’ and ‘wrapped in lust’ and ‘enveloped in a cheesy, schmaltzy phantasamagoria’, so I shall…
Bacon – crisp bacon, diced, is hugged by baked, fleshed potatoes, wrapped in a lust that comes from being smothered in garlic and salty feta, dripping wholegrain chardonnay mustard and melted cheddar, to make one facial orgy out of the cheesy, schmaltzy phantasmagoria that lies so seductively on the plate, begging you to lean in, and take in its heady aromas, deep, and rich, and glistening, like the sweaty anticipation any sultry, anonymous encounter brings.
Food like this is porn, and I’m well-hung enough to know how to man up to the eating of it. This is seduction in the most loosely defined way: your senses of taste, smell and expectation are hurled against a wall of wet longing, as this meal has its most urgent way with you – you can resist as much as sugar before the flames, on a creme brulee, but it’s all for nought, and just like all the best and most vivid violations of your fantasies, don’t fight – just lie back and be taken, like an animal.
Pure filth. I love it.
© Dave Luis 2012. All Rights Reserved.