The aphrodisiac meal

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So, cynical but aglow with the mad hope to which only the desperate cling, I bought a book I had been making fun of for years, an aphrodisiac gastronomy text called Intercourses. Perhaps you’ve seen its coffee-table cover: a naked woman, eyes closed in what must be unspeakable ecstasy, her crotch exploding strawberries red as her lips. Each chapter showcases a different source of delectation—asparagus, figs, oysters, artichokes—which the authors, Martha Hopkins and Randall Lockridge, poetically contextualize as teeming with erotic properties just waiting to be unleashed through fire and art. A myriad of recipes follows. Accompanying each are testimonials from couples all across America who have sampled the gastronomical fireworks—with sexy results.

The rest is quite entertaining: The Aphrodisiac: Maudlin Myth or Tongue-Curling Treat? An Evening of Intercourses