But let’s get back to our meal. According to Panchita, when we plan a menu we should consider all the different tastes so they will complement one another and be differentiated without competition. The order in which the dishes are served has an effect on how each is appreciated. It is not good to begin with the most succulent, because if it is served first, the remaining courses will seem insipid. A magnificent osso buco must always be a solo protagonist, because it vanquishes anything that dares raise its head to it. It should be preceded by a modest green salad, and, as a light finishing touch, an ice. A well thought out dinner forms a crescendo beginning with the pianissimo of the soup, passing through the delicate arpeggios of the appetizer, culminating with the fanfare of the main course, which is followed, finally, by the dulcet chords of the dessert. The process is comparable to that of making love with style, beginning with insinuations, savoring erotic juices, reaching the climax with the usual crash of cymbals, and finally sinking into a pleasureful and well-deserved repose. Haste in lovemaking leaves an angry itch in one’s soul, and haste in eating alters the basic humors of the digestion. The taste buds, like every major organ and some not so major, also fall victim to fatigue. At banquets and in luxurious restaurants, one is usually served a small portion of a tart sorbet between assertive courses, to erase all traces of the first before savoring the second. Temperature is as important as texture and color; everything has its role in the sensual experience of a meal.

  Herbs and Spices

  In times before the modern methods of preserving foodstuffs, spices were more precious than gold. Still today, the hotter the country’s climate, the more spices used in its national cuisine, because of the faster rate of spoilage. Curry was invented in India, not Norway. It was in pursuit of spices that pirates, adventurers, traders, and conquistadors traveled to the East.

  And when the queen of Sheba heard of the fame of Solomon concerning the name of the Lord, she came to prove him with hard questions. And she came to Jerusalem with a very great train, with camels that bare spices, and very much gold, and precious stones. —1 Kings 10:1–2

  Spices have been used not only for seasoning foods and creating perfumes, but also for love philters. Mixed with aromatic herbs, they improve their flavor—let’s not forget that such formulae tended to include fingernail shavings, bile, cow dung, and other delicacies that can only be thought of as acquired tastes. If these magic potions did have some effect on arousing human passions, it was not so much for those horrendous ingredients as for the herbs and spices used in their confection. The latter were cultivated in the domestic gardens and orchards of monasteries and convents, more for medicinal than for culinary uses; many were remedies for impotence and sterility. All that wisdom has died out; today we add parsley to our salad and saffron to the rice without suspecting their secret properties. For aphrodisiac herbs and spices to take effect, frequent use is recommended; it is naive to expect that at the first whiff of cinnamon in our apple tart our libido leaps up.

  In past ages it was supposed that any food originating on distant shores was laden with erotic properties, including the first potatoes imported from the New World and, with greater reason, aromatic spices from what was then called the Far East. But in today’s world, in which the mystery of distance has been lost—we can drink Tibetan tea with yak butter in Texas—little surprises or excites us, and we demand constantly more unnatural aphrodisiacs: battery-driven devices, and shows, live or on video, closer to pornography than the art of erotica. Pornography is method without inspiration; eroticism is inspiration without method. (Eroticism is using a feather; pornography is using the whole hen.)

  Plants are subtle aphrodisiacs, and like love, they act without ostentation, discreetly, and over time. How can we lack confidence in them if nearly all of our modern pharmacopoeia rests on them? And, as habitually happens with love, the most everyday and modest are also the most precious. It is not advisable to go in pursuit of exotic plants like Cassytha filiformis, Bourveria ovata, Artemesia absinthium, and others unless your obsession is botany, because if you spend your time creeping through the woods on all fours looking for them, you will miss many opportunities to make use of them. Nature is dangerous; in its bosom hide predators, poisonous plants, irascible beasts, and bandits disguised as geographers who tend to lurk in thickets in wait for victims. One must not get carried away by bucolic curiosity but accept gratefully what can be grown in the garden or obtained in the market. Consult our list of domestic herbs and spices, and try never to run out of balsamic vinegar, the best mustard, the purest honey, and virgin olive oil (one of the few times that virginity is worth its salt), along with other fundamental ingredients to enhance your cooking and your love life.

  Herbs and spices are the soul of your kitchen, not only because they turn an ordinary dish into a potential aphrodisiac, but also because they cover up culinary mistakes. “If it smells bad, smother it in curry” is the basic axiom of Indian cooking, and in Latin America we use hot chilis for the same purpose. Without going to quite such extremes, I admit that a few sprigs of fresh herbs or a pinch of spices has often saved my mediocre experiments in the kitchen, which is why I grow the former in pots on my balcony. Let me make myself clear. I am not one of those people who find spiritual peace in digging in the dirt. I don’t even have a garden. I like nature in photographs. But in this case neither talent nor vocation is required, nothing more than a little noble dirt—the kind sold in bags—water, sunlight, and the rest is left to the life force. A month after planting the seeds there are herbs for all your aphrodisiac dinners, for giving to friends, and enough left over to take mint or coriander baths to clear your skin and your conscience.

  Woman with Sprig of Laurel, egg tempera by George Tooker, 1992, DC Moore Gallery, New York.

  When Panchita comes from Chile to visit me, we buy spices in a tiny shop in San Francisco presided over by a turbaned man who looks more like a holy man from the Ganges than a merchant. There is something secretive and impalpable in that Hindu’s shop. After each visit, we leave with the sensation of never having been there at all but, rather, of having wandered lost in the labyrinths of our own imagination; only the package with our purchases is proof that the store is not pure illusion. Everything there is poetry: the mélange of potent aromas, the small altar oriented toward the northeast where there are always offerings of rice, incense, and flower petals, the wall tapestry with elephants and gods embroidered in gold thread, the humble, dust-covered Indian crafts no one has bought in all these years. The extravaganza of the powders, leaves, bark, and seeds, the bottles holding mysterious liquids, the box with the snakes, and the silent family of the owner, all slim, dark, and with enormous, visionary eyes, slipping like silhouettes across the back of the room, all of this fully compensates for the effort of the trip into the city and the adventure of winding through narrow streets to find that tiny hole-in-the-wall. With reverent pleasure the man measures out spices with a wooden spoon, weighs them on an ancient bronze scale, and hands them to us in small plastic bags. They are usually more expensive than the ones in the supermarket but have not lost their evocative strength; they are more penetrating and thus, so I deduce, more aphrodisiac. In Katmandu I found a similar shop, although much narrower and more tortured, where with excessive enthusiasm I bought more spices than generations of my descendants could ever use. They were packaged in cones of newspaper, and I went back to the hotel balancing this treasure in my arms. Half of them spilled out in my suitcase, permanently perfuming my clothes, and the rest are still in a kitchen drawer in their original packets. I can’t identify their contents and don’t dare put them in food, but I keep them in case sometime in the future someone from the other side of the world comes to my house, a visitor who will be able to pronounce their names.

  Forbidden Herbs

  A list of herbs and spices blacklisted in the convent of the Barefoot Sisters of the Poor because of their aphrodisiac properties—with Panchita’s commentary.

  Anise (Pimpinella anisum) A plant with white flowers and small, aromatic seeds used in making jams, syrups, essences, salad dressings, and liqueurs. Anise is the base for Pernod, a liqueur fashionable in nineteenth-century Europe, which, when drunk in excess, as absinthe, leads to madness and death. Have no fear, the seeds are not fatal. In many countries of the Mideast it is used to excite the lovemaking of newlyweds and to cure impotence.

  Basil (Ocimum basilicum and Ocimum minimum) It smells of summer lunches in the south of Italy. Its aromatic leaves are indispensable in any respectable kitchen. It is most effective when fresh—added at the end—but can be used dry during the preparation of certain dishes. In ancient cultures—and still in the voodoo of Haiti—basil is associated with fecundity and passion.

  Bay leaf (Laurus nobilis) Roman heroes were crowned with laurel leaves, a symbol of virility. The next time you dance for your lover, adorn yourself with a crown of these sacred leaves. Laughter is aphrodisiac, too. Bay leaf is used sparingly in cooking, barely a small leaf or half a large one, because it has a very strong, rather bitter flavor.

  Borage (Borago officinalis) Used in preparing meat and fish, as well as fresh in salads. The Mapuche Indians of Chile use it as an abortifacient. They brew a strong tea and drink several cups a day, until it brings on cramps and spasms, which in addition to aborting the fetus provoke evil imaginings. Used with moderation and luck, however, it fuels lust.

  Capers (Capparis spinosa) Tiny round strong-flavored fruit that nature created to be the perfect accompaniment to fish. (One of my children stuck a caper up his nose, and it took an operation to remove it, an antiaphrodisiac experience by definition.)

  Cardamom (Elettaria cardamomum) Comes in seeds that are ground for cooking, or in powder, which quickly loses its aroma. In Arabic countries it is put in coffee to enrich the flavor and stimulate good feeling among friends. The seeds are chewed to refresh the mouth—let’s not forget that one of the worst enemies of passion is bad breath. In some Tantric rituals it is used as a symbol of the yoni, or female genitals.

  Cayenne (Capsicum frutescens) A hot power made from dried, ground red pepper, which is also the base of paprika, chili powder, Tabasco, and, in Japan, santaka. It is used, sparingly, to add color, flavor, and a touch of hot taste. If you get it in your eyes, it burns forever.

  Cinnamon (Cinnamomum zeylanicum and Cinnamomum cassia) Extracted from the bark of the tree and used in sticks and powdered form, not only in sweets but also in meats and various curries in Asia and the Mideast. It is the classic condiment in Christmas recipes. Tea brewed from cinnamon bark is recommended as a medicine for the ills of menstruation and pregnancy.

  Clove (Eugenia aromatica) So aromatic and spicy that it must be used with caution and removed from the food before serving, but in powdered form it is milder. Used as a condiment in desserts, meats—especially ham—and many exotic dishes of the East. In Asia and South America, when there is not enough money to pay for a dentist, a clove is placed on the affected tooth. It doesn’t cure it, but it relieves the pain and dulls one’s reason.

  Cumin (Cuminum cyminum) Tiny seeds that give the characteristic flavor to Oriental food and to recipes of lentils and beans; the oil is used for balms and love philters.

  Curry powder Not a spice but a mixture of several: coriander, cardamom, cayenne, pepper, ginger, cinnamon, mustard seeds, turmeric, and others. In Indian or Indonesian cuisine, for example, curry is prepared specifically for each dish—the proportions are often a family secret—and is always browned in oil or butter to obtain the maximum aroma and flavor. In the West we content ourselves with a yellow powder to which we give the generic name “curry,” and which is offered to us in two choices: mild or strong. The strong is for the valiant.

  Dill (Anethum graveolens) The leaves and seeds are used especially with fish. In Scandinavian houses, dill is ever present on the table. Seeds will lend their aroma to a bottle of oil or vinegar, while the leaves are ideal for tickling the feet.

  Fenugreek (Trigonella foenumgraecum) With slightly hairy leaves and yellow seeds, it has an odor that is repugnant to the finicky. It is difficult to find, but we include it here because for centuries it has been thought in Europe to inflame low passions and provoke sensual dreams.

  Ginger (Zingiber officinale) The fresh root, which will last two or three weeks in a dry place, is more flavorful, but ginger can also be obtained as powder or syrup. Its characteristic, rather hot taste enhances sweets, desserts, and innumerable exotic dishes. No Japanese kitchen is without it—the only way of getting down sushi, I suppose. Madame du Barry’s chefs prepared a mixture of egg yolks and ginger that drove this courtesan’s lovers, even Louis XV himself, to unbridled lust.

  Lavender (Lavandula angustifolia) The seeds lend their aroma to perfumes and soaps, but in the past they were also used in cooking as an aphrodisiac. They are rather bitter and hot and can ruin a salad but enhance a soup (they must be strained out before serving). If you do not want to take chances in your kitchen, place them in a sachet beneath the pillow where you will be making love.

  Lemon balm (Melissa officinalis) Has a lemony taste and is good in mayonnaise, recipes that call for fresh cheese and cream, and in dressings and salads, including some fruit desserts. In Chile, lemon balm is drunk as a tea because it is thought to help one lose weight. If it were only that easy!

  Mint (Mentha veridis, Mentha rotundifolia, and other varieties) Its fresh taste is popular in candies and drinks, but it is also used in many recipes. For the British, it is the inseparable companion to lamb. Shakespeare refers to it, along with lavender and rosemary, as a stimulant for middle-aged gentlemen. It grows like a weed and so is easy to cultivate in your garden. In some countries of the Mideast, guests are always welcomed with a cup of mint tea, strong, hot, and heavily sugared.

  Mustard (Brassica nigra and Sinapsis alba) May be purchased as seeds, powder, and bottled. When I indicate mustard in my recipes, I always refer to the easily available jar, because I feel sure that on your erotic calendar you have more urgent matters to attend to than preparing your own mustard. A folklore remedy for impotence is to rub the male member with mustard, in my opinion a rather brutal method of persuasion.

  Nutmeg (Myristica fragrans) A hard nut used to lend fragrance to pastries and desserts, but it also complements the flavor of some vegetables, such as spinach, and mild-flavored meats. It comes in powdered form but is more effective when grated from fresh nuts.

  Oregano (Origanum vulgare and Origanum onite) Something your kitchen cannot be without. Its strong flavor and penetrating aroma are typical of Mediterranean cuisine. A handful thrown in the hot bath shared with your partner is an erotic experience.

  Parsley (Petroselinum crispum) Witches used parsley as one of the ingredients of the magic potion for flying. Some texts say they prepared a balm for rubbing on their body—especially the erogenous zones—whose purpose was to produce hallucinations; others that they rubbed the phallic broom of their nocturnal flights with parsley. An uncle of mine, who had read about the virtues of parsley in an ancient tome, tried both methods but encountered an aerodynamic problem and, when he launched himself from the second-floor terrace on a broom, broke several ribs. There are more than thirty edible varieties: it is served with meats, fish, and salads, among other uses. Its freshens the breath after eating onion or garlic. Like dill, it is good for tickling and other sensual caresses, replacing the feathers that are now completely passé.

  Pepper (Piper nigrum) I go on record as saying that it brings joy to widows and alleviates the impotence of the timid. You will see that it is mentioned in nearly all the recipes in this book, excluding desserts. It is best to grind the corns in a mill as needed, not only to obtain more flavor, but for the ceremony as well, but ground pepper available in any market will do equally well. Did you know that sneezing is an erotic pleasure? My grandfather always carried a small gold box for his snuff and three batiste handkerchiefs embroidered by nuns to sneeze into. Put pepper on the pillow the next time you lure your man into bed, and if that doesn’t work, you can always make love on the rug.

  Saffron (Crocus sativus) A reddish-orange spice, in threads or powder, that turns everything yellow—including the cook if she isn’t careful—and for that reason is used to dye cloth in Asia. In Tibet the color saffron is holy. In general, this is a very expensive spice, but to avoid its bitter taste it is used in small quantities anyway, merely two or three threads. It is the indispensable condiment in paella and other Spanish dishes and always delicious with certain shellfish. In the East, it is thought to be a stimulant.

  Sage (Salvia officinalis) This is a favorite herb for assertive meats such as pork or game birds. It is much better fresh than dried. The soldiers of ancient Greece were welcomed by their wives with sage tea, to stimulate fertility and perpetuate the Greek race, which was always in danger of extinction because of their manic habit of following their heroes into war. Sage has a very strong aroma and must be used with moderation.