What’s the last thing you ate? A big-ass salada ala cuchada with baby greens, cherry tomatoes, green onions, crumbled danish bleu cheese, cottage cheese, olive oil, and balsamic vinegar.
What’s your favorite cheese? I am an absolute CHEESE FREAK. But one single favorite? Currently, it’s an English cheese called “Red Dragon.”
What’s your favorite fish? Mrs. Smith’s…as in STICKS. Believe it.
What’s your favorite fruit? A sweet, cold, sublime watermelon — chilled for hours in a huge metal tub in my parents’ back-yard, circa 1975. I am small, tan, and wearing a red polka-dot bathing suit — and am not even worried about how my ass looks in it. What could be better than that?
When, if ever, did you start liking olives? Honey, I was born with olives on all ten toes and fingers — green on feet, black on hands. I was like the goddamned newborn Edward Scissorhands of olives. I love olives. What kind of Sicilian dame worth her weight in brine and wry doesn’t like olives, for chrissake?
When, if ever, did you start liking beer? High school. In fact, although I rarely rarely rarely drink, when I do — beer is usually my poison of choice. I like Heineken and Rolling Rock. ICE COLD, baby.
When, if ever, did you start liking shellfish? Aside from the olives, I was born shellfishly clutching a lobster in one meathook and a king-crab in the other. I LOVE them both.
What was the best thing your mum/dad/guardian used to make? Love — of the loud, sloppy, godless variety…on Sunday mornings, with the door wide open and Tom Jones blaring on the hi-fi. It was such a pleasant, eye-opening thing to bear witness to as a child. Needless to say, my eight siblings and I are all completely fucking insane.
What’s the native specialty of your home town? Oh, I don’t fucking know — Kodakchrome Quiche? (I was born in Rochester, New York.)
What’s your comfort food? Soupie, soup, soup, soup — HOMEMADE! ALL KINDS!
What’s your favorite type of chocolate? Not too terribly big on chocolate, actually — but maybe just Hershey’s plain or whatever. I got a REAL problem with that whole simpering, culturally pervasive, PMSing female, “Oh, my god — I GOTTA HAVE my chocolate!” horseshit pose. Yeah — and when I am an old woman, I shall wear purple, too. Fuck that drivel.
How do you like your steak? WELL FUCKING DONE. Cut into tight little chunks and completely smothered in A1 steak sauce — so that it neither looks nor tastes like meat. I like my meat more sterile than Howard Hughes’ asshole after his daily two-hour Lysol sitz-bath followed by a high Pina Colonic back. I’m talkin’ STERILE.
How do you like your burger? WELL FUCKING DONE — with onions, pickles, tomatoes, and mustard. Although, there ain’t NOTHIN’ like the taste of just a simple, mystical, magical McDonald’s cheeseburger; it’s ALL about the pickle.
How do you like your eggs? Hard-boiled or scrambled WELL. Anything that is runny, snotty, or load-like has got to GO.
How do you like your potatoes? Baked, with sour cream, chives, and salt and pepper — I’m three and sitting on my father, Tommy’s, lap at a known Mafia restaurant in New York…with Frank Sinatra crooning through the jukebox. You can take the girl outta the mob — but you can’t take the mob outta the girl. Capisce?
How do you take your coffee? Intensely strong and intravenously, with great delight and relish, in a ritual akin to High Mass. (French Roast with 2 Equals and REAL half and half.)
How do you take your tea? With copious amounts of Equal — either iced or hot. I really got into the whole iced tea thing last year during my month in Romania; I was hanging with a bunch of Southern actors who are RELIGIOUS about their fucking iced tea with meals. The Romanians, of course, thought we were all complete goddamned lunatics.
What’s your favorite mug? One I got in Vegas about 10 years ago; my best friend Billy and I sat for one of those ridiculous photo kiosk thingies where they superimpose your mug onto a mug. Our pic is some mother and child portrait from the middle ages — I’m the mother, he’s the child. (For the record, in real life, we’re BOTH the Rhodas.)
What’s your biscuit or cookie of choice? My Sicilan Great-Grandmother’s Italian butter cookies; NIRVANA (which is, coincidentally, where she currently dwells; she died 7 years ago. Don’t just stand there — light a candle and say a novena, goddamnit.)
What’s your ideal breakfast? For the most part, I find that brekkie food is NO-talent — so I’ll just take a steamin’ cup o’ joe (see above for the recipe.)
What’s your ideal sandwich? Conan O’ Brien behind me, John Malkovich in front — with lots of Crisco, cock rings, tit clamps, and crimes against nature. (okay, okay…Tuna melt or Ruben on rye.)
What’s your ideal pizza? New York style — with mushrooms, pepperoni, onions, bellpeppers, olives, and artichokes. And eaten with a fork and knife…ALWAYS.
What’s your ideal pie? Not big on pie. How about a nice frothy cheesecake with those canned horseshit white-trash cherries on top?
What’s your ideal salad? I just inhaled it, actually. (see first question.)
What food do you always like to have in the fridge? Cheese of all kinds, cottage cheese, milk (for the babies’ Cap’n Crunch and Boo-Berry), salad greens of all kinds, cherry tomatoes, green onions, hummus.
What food do you always like to have in the freezer? Trader Joe’s French Roast coffee and broccoli florets, as well as several “clean” urine samples in zip-loc bags (you never know when you might need one to avoid prosecution…)
What food do you always like to have in the cupboard? Black tar heroin and raspberry Zingers.
What spices can you not live without? GAR and LIC.
What sauces can you not live without? A1, Rosarita mild green taco sauce, and man chowder.
Where do you buy most of your food? Trader Joe’s and Henry’s Marketplace.
How often do you go food shopping? A coupla times a week, with a Costco run about once a month.
What’s the most you’ve spent on a single food item? Hmm…probably some high-dollar slab o’ smoked imported Norwegian salmon for the cute penis dude. He likes that stuff.
What’s the most expensive piece of kitchen equipment you own? A priceless, platinum, bejeweled combination garlic press/vaginal speculum from Tiffany’s. (Christ, I have no fucking idea; nor do I particularly care.)
What’s the last piece of equipment you bought for your kitchen? We have actually been on a kitchen-buying bender of late: a red Kitchen-Aid food processor (the little one with a single “pulse” button, not the huge, gotta-have, SUV-ish, ugly-American, conspicuous consumer, trendy overkill motherfucker seen and never used in the kitchens of yuppie cunts the nation over), a red Kitchen-Aid toaster (that does bagels!), two cheese slicers, and a fistfull of plastic rice paddle spoons purchased at a WAY COOL cheesy Asian store in Koreatown.
What piece of kitchen equipment could you not live without? A really fine knife (better to cut you a new grin with, my dear.)
How many times a week/month do you cook from raw ingredients? Several times a week.
What’s the last thing you cooked from raw ingredients? Really yummy ten-bean vegetable soup and a brace o’ crystal meth.
What meats have you eaten besides cow, pig and poultry? Fishie, deerie, snakie, buffaloie, snailie, and Gregorie.
What’s the last time you ate something that had fallen on the floor? What time is it?
What’s the last time you ate something you’d picked in the wild? Peyote. Mexico, 1952 — right before Bill tried to shoot the shot glass off my head. Hey, anybody got a rake I could borrow? All these motherfucking lizards in the trees are really workin’ my last nerve.
Place in order of preference (greatest to least): Garlic, lime, basil, mint, anise, ginger, mary ann.
Place in order of preference: BOOKS, food, Internet, sex, movies, fashion.
Bread and spread: No, actually, if I remember it correctly through the drunken haze that was my youth, it was the other way around: I was spread and then bred. Tequila is surely the urine of Lucifer. (okay, okay…whole grain bread and a slab o’ JIF peanut butter.)
What’s your fast food restaurant of choice, and what do you usually order? Taco goddamned Bell — green bean burrito with EXTRA green sauce.
What’s the next thing you’ll eat? Ass. For money. You got a problem with that?
muffy bolding 