If This Is Going To Be That Kind Of A Party, I’m Going To Stick My Dick In The Mashed Potatoes

I was going to sit on this for a bit and include it in a later post for the Charcutepalooza stuffing project, but since the Very Serious Media have allowed themselves to be punk’d for like the nineteenth time by Andrew Breitbart and are now running ball-to-ball wall-to-wall Weinergate coverage, now seemed like an opportune time to wade in, sausage in hand, with a phallic-themed post.

These kielbasa are locally farmed venison, ground fine and mixed with pepper, mustard, garlic and some instacure #2 and with kimchi brine once again taking the place of lactic acid starter. The brine (plus a pinch of sugar to feed the lactobacilli) worked really well in the first batch of dried salami and added that wonderfully addictive tang. I cold-smoked them with cherry wood chips and grape vines for a few hours until they got nice and dark and turgid, with veins standing out proudly on the surface.

So it came to pass that tonight I was pressed for time, and there was this leftover risotto-esque thing from the night before where I cooked arborio rice with little black beluga lentils and leeks so I defrosted some links and skewered them so they wouldn’t curl provocatively in the pan and then browned them all over. I ran outside and picked some claytonia, wrinkled cress, and chive flowers, skipping from bed to bed and gently nestling the bounty in my basket as I went. Once the sausages were engorged ready, I removed the skewers and rolled them up in the risotto and nori. Sliced fairly thick, because we all know that’s how you like it, I arranged them on a plate and decorated the manly meat rolls with the dainty leaves and flowers for a romantic contrast. I whisked up a vinaigrette that enthusiastically straddled Asian and European (much like “Axxxis of Evil #12”) using red wine vinegar, soy sauce, olive oil, and mustard which made for a nice broken sauce, riddled with suggestive droplets.

Wow–this post is getting traffic even before I hit publish, on account of all the cock-related puns and use of the word “Weiner” and such. Henceforth, I’ll be changing my Twitter handle and blog name to Schwollenschwanz™ and posting only genital-themed foods, since that’s obviously what people want from their media. I noticed yesterday that the Times is replacing Executive Editor Bill Keller with Jill Abramson, and that got me thinking; is she coming in to lower the gullibility/immaturity of the joint so that they get caught with their pants down less often in the future, or is it because, as a lady, she enjoys the penis even more? It’ll be fun to find out.