Gay Vampires


This recipe originally appeared as “Anti-Vampire Garlic Pasta with Herbs” in Food for Life...and Other Dish, a gay and lesbian celebrity cookbook to benefit organizations providing meals for people with AIDS, edited by Lawrence Schimel (Cleis Press, 1996).

Lesbian Vampire Garlic Pasta with Fresh Herbs
By Pam Keesey (interview)

Your friends have all tired themselves out and are heading home. It's last call an you're still alone, not at all what you had planned. As bodies sway to the final soft strands of music, you see her. She steps out from the dark depths of the club. She couldn't have been here all night, and certainly not alone. No—you certainly would have noticed her before now. Dark hair, black as coal; eyes the deepest of midnight hues; porcelain skin and lips as red as.... Her black-clad form is moving, lithely, gracefully, and, yes, even seductively, across the dance floor. How could you not notice her?

“Are you alone?” she asks. She’s talking to you! Your knees go weak. Your heart is pounding; you feel flushed, overheated, electric. “Shall we get a bite to eat? How about your place?” she says liltingly, enchantingly. You stammer. A question forms in your mind, but can't seem to find its way out of your mouth. She takes your hand and leads you out into the night.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” she says. You stop. Your voice, which had abandoned you the minute you looked into her eyes, is struggling to be let free.

“Please. Come in,” you say, gesturing grandly, waving your hand across the threshold.

While you search the refrigerator, she pours you a glass of wine. Red wine. She places the glass in your hand. “To the Children of the Night,” she says as you touch your glass to hers. You take a sip, turning back to the task at hand. From the depths of the refrigerator an idea comes to you. But then the question forms in your mind: Do you really want to know?

You plunge 1 pound of pasta into 6 quarts of boiling water Enough for 4, you realize, but you have no idea how hungry you really are. Or how hungry she might be. In a small frying pan, you heat 3 tablespoons of olive oil, adding 8, no 10, how about 12? Damn it all, you add all 16 cloves of garlic that have been coursely minced. If this doesn't work, you think, nothing will.

On a low heat, you gently sauté the garlic, watching it closely as it turns a light, even translucent brown. Your mind wanders to that lovely creature sipping her wine in the living room as you toss the pasta with the sauteed garlic and 2 cups of finely chopped basil and parsley. What if it is true, you wonder as you gently stir in 1 to 2 cups of cream, mixing the pasta and adding the cream until little sauce forms around the pasta itself. Do you really care if it is true?

You taste the pasta, adding just a bit of lemon juice, some freshly ground pepper, and topping it all with freshly grated Italian or Argentine Parmigiana cheese. “A little midnight snack,” you announce as you serve generous portions to both yourself and the gorgeous denizen across the table.

Now is the moment of truth. But wait! She doesn’t cringe! She’s not backing away! She twirls her fork amidst the pasta, bringing the creamy forkful to her ruby lips. She opens her moist mouth and takes it all in, chewing ever so lightly, ever so subtly. “Delicious,” she says.

You sigh, relaxed, relieved. “Such a meal deserves a kiss,” she says. You feel her arms around you, the light brush of her breath on your mouth, her warm lips on your cheek, her creamy, garlic-scented mouth on your neck. She sinks her teeth in.


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