Is Papaya Killing Your Sex Drive?

Have you ever heard that papaya can kill your sex drive? Everyone knows this to be a fact? I certainly didn’t.

Several years ago I was traveling in Asia with my buddy John Huang. John is a Chinese Filipino who was our sales manager for Asia and we were in the midst of a long car ride in Korea. John is a devout Catholic and I had told him that my uncle Pat was a Catholic priest. Out of nowhere John says to me: “Your uncle must eat a lot of papaya.” My response was: “excuse me?” “Yeah”, John said: “Everyone knows that priests eat a lot of papaya because it kills your sex drive.”

I explained that my uncle didn’t have a sex drive. He was a priest living in a monastery at Villanova University. Picture an 80 year-old Archie Bunker in a Roman collar. Father Pat probably didn’t know what a papaya was. He was strictly a meat and potatoes kind of guy and certainly wasn’t worried about his sex drive.

Fast-forward a few years when I was visiting my cousin Virginia in Hawaii. Ginny and her husband Rich live on Maui near Hana. They have an organic farm and one of their principle crops…you guessed it…papaya. One morning Rich and I go off into their orchard with a long pole to pick some papaya for our morning smoothies. So I say to Rich: “You know that papaya kills your sex drive.” Well Rich certainly didn’t know that and almost took offense to the suggestion.

What got me on this tangent? I was watching an old episode of the Barefoot Contessa where she starts her day off with a papaya smoothie.

Check it out https://youtu.be/Ikf92NioGUE

I always love Ina Garten because of her practical cooking and entertainment advice. I am also a fan because she opened her first shop in Westhampton N.Y. down the road from my mom’s house. She was in Westhampton (the poor man’s Hampton) for a few years before moving to Easthampton where the real money is. A story she tells really explains the difference. She had just opened her shop in Easthampton when she noticed a customer hemming and hawing over how much lobster salad to buy. Ina was fearful that her price of $25 a pound was causing his reluctance. When she asked if he needed help he told her: “I am just not sure if I need 5 or 6 pounds”. There is real money in Easthampton and they certainly are not worried about papaya killing their sex drive.

How about a rum infused papaya smoothie as an amuse bouche at your next supper club dinner party? It would be a hit…just don’t tell folks that it may kill their sex drive.

If you enjoyed this blog and similar other stories/supper club lessons subscribe to get future blogs at www.impromptufridaynights.com/blog and check out my book Impromptu Friday Nights a Guide to Supper Clubs. Published by Morgan James Publishing and available through most channels where books are sold.

Starting Supper Clubs on College Campuses

Supper clubs are just a great way to meet new people. Saturday night was great example. Kim and Jim Robison hosted at their home. The evening was made particularly fun as their daughter Caroline and her boyfriend Matt, students at the University of Arkansas filled in as subs. It was great to be with old friends Sue & Jon Berry as well getting to meet new people.

Check out this video of the salad prep with a special video bomb cameo from the Robison’s dachshunds

While Susan and I have been in supper clubs for years we didn’t start until after college. We spent our college years in Upstate NY close to Montreal. A big time for us was going to Montreal for Chinese food. To this day we compare all egg rolls to Teen Hong’s. The waiter would be baffled when we would order 10 extra egg rolls and would explain “Two come with dinner”. Our plan was to bring them back for dinner during the week. Somehow they would never make it back getting eaten on the way home after a night of bar hopping. When I think about all the drinking and driving on icy roads my roommate Iles’ words have special meaning. He would always say:

“The lord protects fools and drunks…we have double coverage”

Supper clubs on college campuses are a lot safer option where students can avoid drinking and driving and still enjoy socializing with friends.

If you enjoy this blog and similar other stories/supper club lessons subscribe to get future blogs at www.impromptufridaynights.com/blog and be on the look out for my book Impromptu Friday Nights a Guide to Supper Clubs. Morgan James Publishing published the Kindle-Version on September 5, 2017 and the hard copy coming out January 30, 2018.

“Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas, Kiss My Ass, Kiss Your Ass, Kiss His Ass, Happy Hanukkah”.

Every family has their holiday traditions. The Kenny family has a wonderful set of quirky traditions that keep us laughing and crying. For several years after my dad died in 1995 the whole family travelled somewhere to celebrate Christmas together and developed a special set of traditions.

Watching Christmas Vacation

How many times can you watch the same movie? Owning copies in VCR, BETA, CD, Blue Ray and DVD is an indication that we like it no matter the technology. You have to love the fact that every time you watch it you notice something different. We all have our favorite lines that have become part of our holiday vernacular. Some of my favorites:

Clark to company execs: “Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas, Kiss my ass, Kiss your ass, Kiss his ass, Happy Hanukkah”

Cousin Eddie to neighbors: “Merry Christmas, the shitter was full”

Ellen to daughter: “It’s the holidays, we are all in misery together”.

2. Overcooking the prime rib

A prime rib of beef for the Christmas meal was the standard fare. Without fail, no matter who was the cook the prime rib would be overcooked. Most cookbooks call for cooking to 135 degrees. This is a recipe for disaster. If you take the roast out of the oven at 135 it will continue to cook to 145 degrees and higher. That produces well done versus medium rare.

Paul Dean’s recipe that targets pulling the roast out at 120 degrees works really well just don’t tell my sisters

3. Feast of the seven fishes

I grew up in an Italian neighborhood and loved the excitement at the fish store on Christmas Eve as Italians purchased seafood for the traditional Christmas Eve feast. One year we had the whole clan to Memphis and my menu for Christmas Eve called for seven fishes. My scientist brother in law called me out on the fact that cod, shrimp, scallops and clams totaled only four fishes. I made sure that he had at least 3 shrimp and 4 clams to keep his count accurate. Ho Ho Ho.

4. The blessing turns to tears.

Invariably our traditional blessing turns to tears when loved ones no longer with us are remembered. This painful tradition took a break when my son then aged 7 attended a southern Baptist grade school. Brian picked up the wonderful Baptist cadence of talking to god and thanking him for the family, the meal, the day and all our blessings. Brian’s rendition was a big hit and much to his chagrin the whole clan wanted Brian to give the blessing for years. Don’t cry for me Argentina.

5. Waiting for the holiday meal

My mother would tell us that dinner would be at 6 pm. Invariably 7 pm would roll around and dinner would still be 15 minutes away. My dad claimed it was part of mom’s strategy. By the time she served dinner everyone would be so hungry “shoe leather would taste good”. He also called her the “Brains of the operation” for good reason.

6. Westhampton Tee Shirts

My mom lives near the beach in Westhampton. The whole clan grew up spending summers visiting mom-mom. Westhampton has a great tee shirt shop and we all have years of summer purchases in our wardrobes. No matter where we celebrate Christmas, December mornings can be pretty chilly. Invariably, Christmas morning attire for a large segment of the clan involves Westhampton tee shirts. I never said we were smart.

7. Favorite memories

One of my personal favorites goes back to the year we went to a ski resort in New Hampshire. On Christmas Eve a big snowstorm hit while we were on a horse drawn sleigh singing Christmas carols. My middle sister (The college professor/smart one) got caught up in the beauty of the moment and proclaimed: “Isn’t this perfect, it’s a winter wonderland”. To which my oldest sister (The corporate executive/New Yorker) leans over to her then college aged niece and whispers: “Winter wonderland my ass, It’s a “Freaking blizzard”.

You can’t buy memories like that.

Are these the quirkiest holiday traditions? My guess is that they aren’t even close to the record. Hopefully they generated a chuckle or two as you wait for that over-cooked prime rib. “Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas, Kiss my ass, Kiss your ass, Kiss his ass, Happy Hanukkah”.