Kitchen Porn

Let’s get one thing straight: I love women. I immensely enjoy spending time rolling around all naked with a hot woman. Also, I love football, a fine steak, Mexican beer, and carpentry.

Now that we have all that settled, I feel free to admit that I titter and squeal like a Japanese schoolgirl when my quarterly Sur La Table catalog arrives in the mail. I peruse it in separate “sittings.” I dog-ear pages, plan future meals, and visualize were my new purchases could be stored in my smallish kitchen. I make noises like “ohhh...” and “mmmhhmmm...that’s nice.” And that’s just the catalog...

My friends, I have a weakness for Kitchen Porn.

The physical manifestations begin innocuously enough – perhaps I get a taste for some steamed spinach. But, dear readers, I have no way to steam that spinach. Looks like I’ll have to buy some kind of kitchen equipment to properly introduce the steam of a boiling pot to a healthy dose of leafy green. So I hop on the internets and scan the pages of Sur La Table or Williams Sonoma. Then I plan my trek to either store. The car ride over is filled with anticipation. Palms get sweaty, face gets a little flushed, excitement wells up in my bosom. And upon entering the fine kitchenware establishment... sweet, sweet RELEASE.

I’m surrounded not just by steamer inserts, but also by display racks of Le Creuset (all the colors!), stainless EVERYTHING, knives, utensils, glassware, shiny appliances, and so much more. The feeling is euphoric. I buy as many items as I can, spending time to caress, fondle, and stroke all the wonderful kitchen toys.

As I emerge from the store, basking in the afterglow of my purchasing orgy, the feeling is so very similar to that of the post-coital. And much like the real thing, after getting my new additions home and put away (fifteen minutes later), I’m already thinking about that next catalog, that next excursion, with delicious anticipation.

Oh, and once again: Totally Not Gay. In fact, I just cooked up a succulent roast and served it to your mom, your sister, and your ex-cheerleader-girlfriend. Then we all had sex. Twice. So hot. Your mom loved it (and the roast). Bitch.