This little cookbook, written and published by Home, Wash., resident Sam Dodge, arrived on my desk yesterday. "This isn't really a cookbook. This is a book about hunting," it starts. We've been holding public readings since, though I've had to hand the book over to a couple of the women on staff because I couldn't (legally) finish reading the choicest passages aloud to them. Of course, that breaks every rule in the book. The title page states, "IF YOU ARE A WOMAN CLOSE THIS BOOK NOW!"
Illustrated with many, many naked ladies drawn à la junior-high art project by the author's wife and son, the Panty Dropper Cookbook offers sensible advice to the kind of guys who think women are both magical and disposable. Clean your bathroom, for example. Stare at her eyes, not her boobs. Don't ever talk about exes. On the importance of always stocking a red and a white on hand:
Remember the goal here: Panties on the floor. Alcohol dulls the gate guardians and loosens a girl's inhibitions.That's a good thing.
On chocolate as a panty dropper (the author has a bit of an undergarment fetish):
'I love chocolate. Do you like chocolate?' This could easily be the best opening line you could possibly use. 'Tell me a little about yourself. Do you prefer to be on top?' The chocolate line works, while the other works about one percent of the time. . . . If you have ever used this line, you have a very close relationship with your right hand and you probably don't need this book.
Along with life lessons taken from the Playboy era, the self-published cookbook comes with a few recipes that look relatively simple and decent, like a caprese salad and seared pork tenderloin with tomato-wine butter sauce. A series of instructional videos on the book's website features Chef Andy Simard, who shows the horny male how to prep and cook all the recipes in the book with a minimum of winks. The demonstrations are clear and solid, though the site seems to be so slow that the videos took forever to load.
I can't imagine recommending anyone pay $15 for The Panty Dropper Cookbook, but it already has a place on my shelf -- next to its complement, a 1952 paperback published by Lea & Perrins, which is titled Dishes Men Like.