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I used to be a crap lay. But now I’m on a mission quest to become the World’s Greatest Lover. I’ve consulted psychologists, sexperts and other random perverts.

And my progress is going so well, I’m learning how to treat a woman after we’ve enjoyed life-altering sex. More specifically: today’s column is about serving breakfast to a sexy woman.

Let’s face it: there are rules. You can’t just spend the night with a woman and then send her out hungry into the cold. Well, you can, I suppose, if you’re a motherfucking P.I.M.P.

But for would-be gentlemen like myself, good hot food is critical. I know this because I’m studying a fantastic Australian etiquette book, entitled HOW TO BE A MAN.

The authors, John Birmingham and Dirk Flinthart, draw a straight line between cooking a delicious meal and participating in delicious sex. Gentlemen: GET THIS BOOK.

One of your soon-to-be favourite chapters is called “Cooking for Sex: The Game Plan.” They list surefire sensual recipes that include Mackerel Steak Poached in White Wine, Malaysian Rendang Asli, and Satan’s Own Chocolate Mousse.

But they save their finest advice for the morning after. They write: “If you’ve made the grade the night before, and that stunning babe is currently reposing in fetching disarray on your sheets, there is nothing at all in the world more likely to score you a replay than fronting up with a platter of something tasty while she’s still rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.”

They also caution that if you ever meet “a woman anywhere in the world who doesn’t have a deep-seated weakness for a really fine breakfast brought to her in bed, take care: she is almost certainly an alien body snatcher.”

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They include recipes for croissants filled with smoked salmon, capers, brie, avocado and a spoonful of strawberries with a light brandy sauce.  Pretty fancy stuff.

They make me realize I’ve been kinda half-assing it. My go-to breakfast is sizzling bacon and scrambled eggs with ground pepper and crumbled blue cheese. My superfine girlfriend loves condiments, so I line up bottles of Tabasco sauce, ketchup, and spicy Thai rooster chili sauce.

Not too shabby…it certainly beats handing her a carton of milk and a mini box of Kellogg’s Frosted Flakes. And we’ve all served (or been served) post-coital breakfasts that were much, much worse. Here’s one example: when I was 19, I used to bump into a buddy at Tim Horton’s in the morning. He was inevitably accompanied by some cute but dishevelled high school girl. His idea of morning breakfast was to take her through the Tim Horton’s drive-thru on his way to dropping her off at school.

At least he didn’t taint her food. I knew another guy (who’ll remain unnamed) whose breakfast servings depended entirely on the quality of the previous night’s sex. If his date was terrible in bed, his breakfast was equally wretched. For example: if the sex was unspectacular and she showed less hustle in bed than a starfish, he’d start cooking before she woke up so he could dunk his testicles on her toast. Mature? Not at all. These are purely examples of What Not to Do.

By contrast, two men who clearly know what they’re doing are the Aussie lads who wrote HOW TO BE A MAN. It seems to be out of print, so try to grab a used copy off of Amazon or eBay.

Their go-to breakfast — which I assume they cook for separate women, not the same woman at the same time — is the classic omelet with a savoury filling.

“Why not a sweet filling?” you may ask.

“Those who espouse the concept of sweet omelets are very, very sad and inept Men indeed,” they reply.

I’ve included the authors’ omelet recipe here. They recommend serving it in bed on a shared plate, and paired with cold orange juice and champagne. Which, if you ask me, is pretty goddamned slick.

But it’s more than that, too. A hot nutritious lovers’ breakfast is thoughtful, strong brain food … and a helluva good way to bypass an awkward morning conversation.

Bon appetit.

Image Source: How to Be a Man by John Birmingham and Dirk Flinthart
Publisher: Duffy & Snellgrove, 2000

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