Young snobs in love

Jacob Richler* knows which fork is used for dessert, what wine to serve with fish, and, most importantly, how to treat a lady.

The proof is right here in his Valentine's Day column, in which he advises readers who are "happily equipped for the occasion with a foxy date of some variety" on what to cook. You see? He has barely begun and already I'm hotter than a fresh jalapeño in July. (It has to be really fresh, however, or else serve it to the dog.)

First up, caviar:

It is, of course, not especially surprising that a species with the misfortune of having its unborn young unanimously anointed by the planet's most voracious eaters as its alltime favourite snack would, sooner or later, end up in an uncomfortable spot.But the good news is that the scientists at the UN's Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species (CITES), which last year imposed a total ban on fishing in the Caspian, has recently revisited the issue, poring over the numbers and analyzing the data. They have heard Mother's Nature's message and found it loud and clear: The gist of it is that you better eat as much caviar as you can while there's still time?

So earlier this month CITES lifted its ban and invited the five Caspian- bordering states of Azerbaijan, Iran, Kazakhstan, Russia and Turkmenistan to go for it and plunder another 96 tonnes over 2007.

A dubious decision to be sure. But I've thought the issue over very carefully and the fact is that if five or six ounces of that 96 tonnes ends up in my belly instead of someone's elses [sic], I will not sleep badly, but better.

It ain't romantic unless you're contributing to the endangering of a species. Bring on the seared Panda paw!

So I will definitely be starting things off on Valentine's evening with a little tin of the Caspian's finest and a few shots of frozen Polish vodka. And I advise you to do the same -- not just because it tastes so splendid and luxurious but also for its aphrodisiac qualities, which in this case I suppose come down to imagery: On a night expected to finish up with an activity occasionally associated with producing offspring, it just feels right to kick things off by eating someone else's.

I know whose house won't get trick-or-treated by my kids this Halloween. Who knows when Jake might be feeling frisky?

Oysters come next:

But to my way of thinking, the notion of aphrodisiac content is dodgy, and what's more, food in itself is never actually sexy. It's the way we eat it -- and watch others do it -- that starts those juices flowing. And this is where the oyster delivers its tantalizing final message about the person who has just set about eating it alive: Anyone who is eager to slurp up something that looks like that will obviously slurp at just about anything.

Did anyone else just throw up in their mouth just a little?

And on to foie gras:

Searing the fresh stuff is dead-easy, I promise you, and there is nothing quite like looking across a table at the right pair of lips glistening a little from a few stray trickles of its incomparable fat.

Is he allowed to write this kind of stuff in a family newspaper? Please no one tell Jake about nyotaimori....

Although maybe it's Jake's restraint that makes these columns always seem a little off. Maybe full-on decadence is the way to go. He should convince The National Post to send him on a three-week sex tour of Thailand. Report on the quality of the food being served in Dutch brothels. Advise us what scotch goes down smoothest in the game room after a day hunting the most dangerous prey of all.

Where were we? Oh right, Jacob was preparing to ravish us:

But now it really is time to break out some hot food.

Gosh, Jake, look at the time...

Me, I'm thinking of a small bowl of consomme -- quail, maybe -- with a delicate little ravioli floating on top...

I have to work in the morning...

...and a single raw quail egg-yolk floating on top, because I like the way it bursts so delicately on the tongue, and knowing that it will be doing the same on someone else's, too.

Really, you're a sweet guy, and everything...

Better yet, snow crab are in season, and they are divinely delicate and sweet. Either meal leads to a happy scene of the savage dismemberment of the very recently expired accompanied by lots of licking of buttery fingers.

Taxi!



(*Yes, I know it's becoming something of an obsession. What can I say? I'm like a prospector: I'm only interested in the gold.)