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Sex On A Plate: 49 Sinfully Simple Recipes That Will Save Your Relationship Read online




  Sex On A Plate

  Scott Hildreth

  Contents

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  RATTLESNAKES, BLOWJOBS, AND BARBEQUE

  DAMN, HE’S UGLY

  DESSERTS

  GRILLED PEACHES

  H.P.P.F.

  SCOTT’S BANANAS FOSTER

  SOFT CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES

  CHOCOLATE CAKE WITH CREAM CHEESE FROSTING

  OATMEAL COOKIES

  MATT’S BAKED CHEESECAKE

  SECTION TWO

  ADOBO CHICKEN

  BANGING SHRIMP TACOS

  PORK CHILI VERDE

  CRISPY CHICKEN QUESADILLA

  PORK ENCHILADAS

  SRIRACHA BURGER

  BEST CHICKEN WINGS

  SECTION THREE

  SCOTT’S SPAGHETTI PIE

  CABBAGE ROLLS

  NOT YOUR MOTHER’S MEATLOAF

  PERFECT PORK SHOULDER

  2-MEAT 11-Layer LASAGNA

  CHICKEN AND RICE CASSEROLE

  SKILLET STEAK

  SECTION FOUR

  BACON

  BAKED BONE-IN CHICKEN BREASTS

  PRIME RIB ROAST

  ITALIAN MEATBALLS

  INSTA-POT ROAST BEEF AND VEGGIES

  CHICKEN PARMESAN

  EASY STUFFED CHICKEN BREASTS

  SECTION FIVE

  KILLER REUBEN

  CHILI VEAL

  THE CUBAN

  DOUBLE GRILLED CHEESE

  GRILLED BREAKFAST BURRITOS

  AVOCADO TOAST

  HAWAIIAN PORK AND PIMENTO CHEESE

  SECTION SIX

  PASTA SALAD WITH BACON

  PARMESAN CAULIFLOWER

  FOIL POTATOES

  BACON DEVILED EGGS

  SKILLET FRIED BRUSSEL SPROUTS WITH BACON

  CABBAGE AND BACON

  BROCCOLI AND BACON SALAD

  SECTION SEVEN

  J&D’S TEQUILA SUNDOWN

  JESSICA’S MODIFIED VODKA AND WATER

  BEST ESPRESSO

  DEREK’S 1800 MARGARITA

  JESSICA’S MIMOSA

  JESSICA’S BAYHOUSE SANGRIA

  THE CANNED DELIGHT

  THE DEPARTURE

  To my children. Erin, Alec, Derek, Landon, Lily, and Charlee. When you’re away, now you can eat like you’re at home.

  Enjoy.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  The recipes contained within the limits of this book are a combination of family recipes, revised recipes from my Grandmother’s cookbooks, actual recipes from my grandmother’s cookbooks, and recipes I’ve developed on my own, many of which were me hoping to reproduce something I loved from a restaurant I’d patronized.

  Please, take these instructions and make them your own.

  Lastly, I don’t shake my children. Hopefully, you don’t either.

  SEX ON A PLATE 3d Edition Copyright © 2020 by Scott Hildreth

  All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the author or publisher constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use the material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the author at [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights

  Cover design by Jessica

  Follow me on Facebook at: www.facebook.com/sd.hildreth

  Like me on Facebook at: www.facebook.com/ScottDHildreth

  Follow me on Twitter at: @ScottDHildreth

  RATTLESNAKES, BLOWJOBS, AND BARBEQUE

  Understanding a man is easy.

  It’s nearly impossible, however, to predict a man’s actions. Men are like rattlesnakes. They’re unpredictable creatures.

  At least initially.

  Through studying a man’s patterns, you can come close to predicting his reactions. Gaining this knowledge, however, isn’t an overnight affair. It takes copious amounts of time and tremendous effort.

  Sadly, time isn’t always on our side.

  Upon meeting a man, you have a small window of time to garner his undivided attention. If that task isn’t accomplished promptly, his mind—and his heart—begin to wander. If having him vanish is your hope, no action is needed.

  Simply leave him alone.

  He, like a rattlesnake, will slither away. If you prefer that he remain in your presence, you must act while the window of opportunity is open.

  For him to raise a respective eyebrow and pay attention to each and every word that comes from your mouth, you must gain his interest. As mentioned earlier, the window of opportunity is closing a little further with each tick of the clock. Eventually, it’s closed completely, and the opportunity has evaporated.

  If his eyes become glassy and unfocused, it’s a good indication that his mind is elsewhere. He’s thinking about pickup trucks, deer hunting, a Ferrari, or titties.

  How can you garner a man’s undivided attention?

  A man’s curiosity can be piqued by a few things.

  A fiery explosion. Cleavage. Sports. A nice ass. An exotic car. A beautiful face. An interesting conversation. Full, luscious lips.

  These things can stimulate a man’s interest, but they cannot keep it.

  To capture—and keep—a man’s attention, there are only a handful of options. Three, to be exact. They are as follows:

  Oral sex.

  A blowjob is the oral equivalent of grabbing a man by the balls and squeezing them. His undivided attention is now between his legs. Your fate is in your hands (actually, it’s in your mouth) at this juncture. Perform, and you have opened the window of opportunity forever.

  Sex.

  Fornication is a quick way to force a man to shift his concentration away from whatever is on his mind. If he’s in the midst of a football game, an argument, or setting off fireworks, and offer to fuck him senseless will inevitably be accepted.

  Always.

  Food.

  The lingering aroma of a well-seasoned Prime Rib or the tangy lemon undertone of a silky-smooth cheesecake is akin to a sensual kiss. The type of kiss that moves mountains, buckles knees, and forces the recipient to take a step back and wonder just what else might be over the horizon.

  At some point in our lives, we’ve all seen a man and a woman together who seem to be an odd match.

  The European supermodel with the dude that looks like he just got out of county jail for fucking a goat. Or, for the sake of this story, the handsome man with an awkwardly unattractive woman.

  We wonder if they’re actually together. We tell ourselves they must be a brother and sister. We watch. We wait. Then, they kiss.

  We wince in disgust. We stare in disbelief.

  How can it be?

  How did she land such a fine specimen of manhood?

  We’re right back to the three options outlined above.

  She’s either able to suck a golf ball through a garden hose, is willing to fuck at the drop of a hat, or she can cook a chicken parmesan like no other.

  Be the woman who wields the spatula.

  Because nobody really wants a dick in their mouth.

  DAMN, HE’S UGLY

  It seems nothing can bring a family together faster than a good meal.

  Sunday dinners. Barbeques. Holiday gatherings. Birthdays. Superbowl Parties.

  We may not gather as a group for the entire event, but we’ll damned sure congregate for the distribution of the food, won’t we?

  Why?
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  Because food provides comfort. We find solace in a flavorful Ribeye steak or a warm chocolate chip cookie fresh out of the oven.

  “I’m smoking a brisket and a pork shoulder, wanna come?”

  All of a sudden, our brother and his wife are at the door with some store-bought potato salad.

  When food tickles our taste buds, we tell everyone within earshot. “Have you eaten at that new Italian joint over on Washington? Holy shit, you’ve got to try that place. Seriously, it’s to die for. You and Shari should join us next weekend. My treat.”

  If it tastes like a dry dog turd, we’ll leave a scalding Yelp review or call someone we haven’t talked to in years just to make sure the world knows how we feel about it.

  “Dear God. Have you seen the advertisements for that new steak place? Jessica and I ate there last night before the new Liam Neeson Thriller. The filet was like rubber, the potato tasted like dirt, and the salad was wilted. Don’t even bother. It was fucking awful.”

  Why are we so keen to discuss our beliefs when it comes to food?

  Because food, like sex, evokes emotion.

  Although there are several things that I am personally capable of, there are only two that I believe are worth mentioning.

  Cooking and telling stories.

  I’ve shared my life’s experiences through the 49 full-length novels I’ve published. This is as close as I can get to offering you a meal.

  I’ve chosen 49 of my go-to recipes. They’re all simple to prepare. Not one will require a trip to some overpriced specialty shop at the other side of town.

  Convinced a good book and a good meal are a recipe for success, I’m hoping to share both with you at the same time. That offering is between the two covers of this book.

  Be forewarned, I cuss a little when I cook.

  Oh, and I tend to tell stories as they relate to my memories of the food I’m preparing.

  Thumb through these pages and find out what it is that I enjoy eating while you learn a little about what got me to where I am.

  If you’re a previous fan of my writing, you know that I’m the hideously ugly man with the gorgeous wife.

  What we’ve learned so far tells us that one of three things must be true.

  I’ll confide in you a little.

  In our household, I do most of the cooking.

  Let’s get started, shall we?

  DESSERTS

  DESSERTS

  Grilled Peaches

  H.P.P.F.

  Scott’s Bananas Foster

  Soft Chocolate Chip Cookies

  Chocolate Cake with Cream Cheese Frosting

  Oatmeal Cookies

  Matt’s Baked Cheesecake

  GRILLED PEACHES

  DIFFICULTY: Really? It’s a grilled fucking peach. It’ll be over before you know it.

  TIME: 15 minutes, start to finish.

  What you’ll need from the cupboard: If you have a grille, you’ll need a spatula with a sharp edge (a metal one, not a fat plastic one) and a pair of tongs. If you don’t have a grille, you’ll need a skillet with a lid that fits well and that same spatula. You’ll also need 2 big soup spoons, 2 bowls (assuming 2 people). An electric mixer. A mixing bowl. A teaspoon. An Ice cream scoop. A rubber spatula.

  What you’ll need from the pantry: RIPE peaches (one per person). Vanilla ice cream. Half a cup of brown sugar. Cinnamon. Pam cooking spray. A stick of softened butter.

  Grilled peaches are a must have in our home. Jessica had never eaten them until she met me. Now she begs for them. As if her life depends on it.

  They’re one of the few things in life that provide a huge return on a minimal investment.

  Here we go.

  Chuck the stick of softened butter in the mixing bowl. Add 1/4 cup of brown sugar and 1/4 of a teaspoon of cinnamon to the bowl.

  Set remaining 1/4 cup of brown sugar aside.

  Beat the butter/sugar/cinnamon with the electric mixer until smooth.

  Scrape off beaters with the rubber spatula and set the beaten butter mixture aside.

  Don’t even think about licking the beaters. Toss them aside. You’re not going to need them any longer.

  Grab one peach per person. Make sure they’re ripe. Nothing is worse than a peach that has the crisp snap of a fucking Gala apple when you bite into it.

  If the peach is ripe, wash the peach. If it is not, wrap it in a brown paper bag and wait anxiously for 3 days. Don’t ask. Just believe me, it works.

  Wash the peach.

  Dry the peach.

  Cut the peach in half (from stem to bottom) and remove the pit.

  Cast the pit into the trash. If you leave it on the countertop, you’ll forget it. Ants love forgotten peach pits. Nobody likes ants.

  Place the teaspoon inside the butter mixture with the handle sticking up. Ever seen the picture of the Marines raising the flag at Mount Suribachi?

  Make it look like that.

  Take your tongs, spatula, peaches (on a plate), the extra brown sugar (it’s not really extra), and the butter mixture to the grille.

  Spray the grates of the grille with Pam. Spray the face of the peach with Pam.

  Heat the grille with a high flame to around 450 degrees. If you’re grille doesn’t have a thermometer, heat it on high for ten minutes. During this ten-minute opportunity, think of what regrets you have from high school.

  What do you wish you could take back? What one thing?

  Mine is for not stepping in when Jim Lister got his ass kicked. I could have stopped it, but I didn’t. I found it interesting to watch. Until it wasn’t.

  Ding!

  The grille’s ready.

  Add the peaches face-down on the grille. Close the lid. Grille the fruit without fucking with it for about 8 minutes.

  Think of one more regret. From your childhood.

  I shot the garage window out with my pellet gun. Someone whipped my ass for it. It’s the only regret that comes to mind from childhood.

  Pay attention, your peaches are almost done.

  Using the sharp spatula, scoop the peach from the grille in a brisk motion, using caution not to scrape off the perfect brown crust that’s developed from the grille’s grates (hence the need for a sharp spatula). Using the tongs, carefully place the peach skin side down on the grill in the same location you removed it from.

  Spoon a BIG wad of butter mixture in the center of the peach. Don’t attempt to get it all in the pit’s valley, you want a little of it everywhere.

  Do this to all the peaches, quickly.

  Close the lid.

  Grille for 1 minute with the lid closed.

  Open the lid.

  Remove each peach with the tongs and place them on the plate, using caution not to spill the melted butter.

  Immediate sprinkle brown sugar over the entire face of peach.

  Run your happy ass to wherever it is that you intend to serve this grilled buttery goodness.

  Serve 2 halves in a bowl with ice cream between them.

  If you don’t have access to a grille, they’re just as good if prepared in a skillet.

  To do so, use 1/4 of a stick of butter in the skillet. Heat to slightly over medium. Cook the peaches uncovered for 6-8 minutes on between medium and medium high, face down. Flip with tongs at the 8-ish minute mark. Put on lid. Cook 2 more minutes.

  Remove lid. Add butter. Add lid. 30 seconds later, remove lid and sprinkle with brown sugar.

  Serve in the same manner as if they were prepared on the grille.

  My. Mouth. Is. Watering.

  Enjoy.

  H.P.P.F.

  DIFFICULTY: It’s a pudding cake. If you’re truly concerned, this is probably not the book for you.

  TIME: 30-40 minutes, all in all. 3 hours to cool in fridge.

  What you’ll need from the cupboard: A sharp knife. A 13x9 casserole dish. A spatula. A frosting spreader. An electric mixer. 4 mixing bowls. 2 spoons. The wire rack. A cutting board.

  What you’ll need from the pantry: A
bar of 60% cacao Ghirardelli chocolate. Four cups of whole milk. An 8-ounce package of Philadelphia Cream Cheese. 3 tablespoons of granulated sugar. Three-fourth a cup of powdered sugar. A stick of softened butter. A cup of chopped pecans. A cup of flour. A whole fucking tub of Cool Whip. JELL-O Instant Vanilla Pudding. JELL-O Instant Chocolate Pudding NOTE: (Pudding comes in 3.4 and 5.1-ounce packages. You’ll want the 5.1-ounce sizes of each). Pam Cooking Spray.

  After you make this for the family, you won’t be able to wait to prepare it for a group of unsuspecting guests. It’s wonderful with a cup of coffee or by itself. It’s as addictive as heroin, so be careful.

  If you don’t watch what you’re doing, you’ll be sitting in the basement corner at midnight with the pan between your knees and a spoon in your hand, eating this shit with wide eyes and a grin on your face while everyone in the house is looking for you.

  I can’t wait until you taste this. I really can’t.