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A brunch in perversion.

Each year, in Montreal, a chocolate exhibition called “Je t’aime en Chocolat” takes place. This year, on a cold February morning, quite early, I went to check it out. Since that particular day, the word brunch is forever changed. Although the word is no more than a contraction of lunch and breakfast, it now opens a dimension of perversion in my mind. Let me explain…

The event took place in a stunning building located in Old Montreal: the fabulous Marché Bonsecours. I was standing in front of an oversize chocolate fountain when I met a young woman for whom anyone would have had a predilection. It was in fact, a companion who was putting to shame Miley Cyrus and her famous Smarties outfit. This creature was everything but artificially sweet: she was a six-feet-tall-Croquembouche who happened to have a drive for food similar to mine.

Our conversations have gravitated around food fantasies. We have talked for a while admiring the surrounding edible art. We have taste a variety of sweets offered on the spot until we became quite stimulated. All these dripping treats and this flowing confectionery orgy had quickly made our head spin with fresh ideas.

Pretending we both needed to eat something consistent in order to regain some control over our sugar filled bodies, we both decided to quit the place. Obviously, all these fine chocolates had excited us but failed at filling the epicentre of our cravings.

Since I happened to live right around the block, we left to eat a real meal, a brunch at my place. We walked a fast pace towards my condo, a place where I knew we were sure to get all the ingredients needed to make our brunch. What I ignored was the magnitude of creativity that would spring out of this encounter. Once arrived, with no time to waste, the drop-dead hottie and pretty enough to eat companion girl had laid down her six feet tall naked figure on the large glass table top furnishing my dining room. Looking directly into my eyes, she invited me to candy her entirely. This is about when my already-boiling-imagination started to outbursts…

Probably inspired by the famous Japanese body Sushi, undeniably influenced by the art of cooking of Montreal’s greatest Chef, I have measured each and every angle, I did not leave anything to chance. I even went under the glass table to have an overview of each slits where would run my liquid creativity before ending in small puddles on the glass.

During my observation, the finger-liking-good companion was playing along, standing still as a marble statue but the warmth of her flesh was showing deep enthusiasm: her skin was burning to be spread, sprinkled, sucked and devoured with a topping of my choice and that desire was causing the glass to fog in some places.

There was no doubt her belly button was going to become a recipient to my juices. I was convinced my eyes would come watching closely her body’s depths being filled with runny ingredients proposed on the menu.

Was I going to smear her with thick Béchamel sauce? Spread her with the finest French pâté? Run freshly squeezed juices all over her? Decorate her curbs with fruit slices or cinnamon buns?

Of one thing I was sure: maple syrup, juices and sauces were about to trickle down her peach skin, mimosa bubbles were about to burst bumping over her goosebumps and my undivided attention was about to let me hear them blow one by one.

I was in total awe, submerge by the experiment, gone far into a trance, taken under the ecstasy of my own creation. The idea of my soon-to-be-made-sweet-and-savoury-recipe was an exulting thrill to my mind.

Whip Cream? Too cliché … Caramel? Too sweet… Molasses? Too dark… I took quite a while thinking about it simply because the process itself was overly jubilating…

In the end, all I will tell is that I ended up choosing a Quebec medium maple syrup. It was a perfect match to her skin shade, it was translucent like water, but consistent enough to drip slowly and highly glossy like a lip cosmetic that would butter up her curves. I have amalgamated a wide variety of exotic fruit to some fine Brittany Style pancakes and some edible flowers to concoct what I really call a masterpiece with a final touch of orange-flower water, cognac and honey… I think one can get the picture… Each time I have a brunch these days, my mouth waters a little more than before!

It is fair to say that this year, I got my kicks at the Montreal Chocolate Exhibition. I am looking forward to try Le Salon de l’Amour et de la Séduction in January with a kind of special and velvety companion and again, the Boat Show in February with a companion that can be called the mermaid type…

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