Eat a Bag of Dicks: The All-Dick Meal

A thing that most of you may not know is why my blog is called The Pizzle. 

While “pizzle” is a fun word to say, it is also a culinary delight. The word “pizzle” is actually the term to describe the penis of an animal. Apparently, according to this Wikipedia article, the term “pizzle” is most commonly used in Australia and New Zealand. In America, you can find bull pizzles (also called “bully sticks”) at the pet store, where bull penises have been dried to become chew toys for dogs. I’m not sure that’s what the bull intended its pee-pee to be used for once it was dispatched, but life has such delightful little foibles you can never predict. If I donate my body to science, I wonder who might end up chewing on my penis.

Pizzles are also eaten by people — mainly the bull pizzle, though penises of other four-hoofed animals such as deer are eaten too. In cultures that do enjoy mowing down on schlong, pizzles are thought to give males sexual prowess and stamina. It must be a big thing on Valentine’s Day. They are mostly consumed in Asia (go figure, I’m Asian) in various ways. Pizzles are steeped in alcohol for beverages, and more commonly used in soup. Even then, it’s still a relatively unused ingredient, because not everybody likes to mow down on animal ding dong.

I have been working on this post since I started this blog last October. I brainstormed, drank, laughed, and contacted friends and colleagues who were able to help me get this shit done. Who knew it would be so hard to get my hands on some dick?

I would like to say thanks to:

• My coworkers (3G, especially)
• Hoffherr Meat Co. (thank you Sean Hofherr)
• The Butcher and Larder (Rob Levitt was able to procure me some beef cock, much to his dismay and delight)
• My roommate, Craig, of ABV Chicago fame (he got me the Three-Penis Wine when I couldn’t find it)
• And all of you guys who are reading this.

Thank you all so, so, much. So without further ado, I present to you: The All-Dick Meal.

As you all have discovered, I think penises are hilarious. They’re a dumb organ, but we men obsess over them. When it comes down to it, a penis is really just a straw for two things: pee and baby batter. They dangle, they look stupid, and have been the cause of many, many, wars. But how could I create a meal based solely off of penises?

One day, I read this post on the Chicago Reader where a bartender was challenged to make a cocktail with Chinese three-penis wine, because apparently that’s a real thing. I immediately wanted some to write about. I went to Chinatown having no idea where to start, and left without any dick in hand aside from mine. However, my roommate visited Chinatown again, and showed the store employee the photo of the bottle. The employee said, “Oh, you want three-penis wine? Here you go.” It made for a wonderful Christmas present. And it was disturbingly easy.

So I had a cocktail ingredient. But I needed a basis for the meal, somehow penis related. When I was working on The Sexual Chocolate Valentine’s Day Cake, I saw Penis Pasta and purchased a box on the spot. Hell yeah.

But all pasta needs a sauce, right? So why not some actual semen? I visited Super H-Mart in Niles and got cod milt, which is the semen sacs from cod fish, an ingredient in a spicy Korean seafood soup. That’s right — it’s fish jizz. Bam.

But where would I get some actual pizzle? This was the true challenge. A coworker hooked me up with a butcher in Northbrook, Hofherr Meat Co., where Sean Hofherr tried to contact processors and distributors that would chop one off and toss it into a box for him. It proved to be a challenge; the dick remained elusive. So I used Twitter to contact Rob Levitt and the Butcher and Larder (a stunning butcher shop in Chicago, you guys all need to go), and he was able to get one from Slagel Family Farm. A local, happy, farm-raised, hormone-free bull penis. In fact, he got me three. They cost a whole $8. Done.

And I had a can of spotted dick (a cake from England) in the pantry from a random Christmas trip to World Market. Everything was now in place.

When I walked into The Butcher and Larder to pick up the pizzle, I said, “Hi, I’m here for that, uh, special order.”

Rob, behind the counter, looked at me and said, “Hang on, let me get them for you.” As he went into the back, one of the employees came up to me and whispered, “I love your site, Fart Sandwich.” I hung my head in a little bit of shame. It’s still difficult for me to introduce myself as “Fart Sandwich from Twitter” in person.

“I signed up for Twitter while I was wasted,” I said. We laughed. Then inside my soul, I cried. I am so alone.

Rob showed me the goods in back, and I suddenly had doubts about the stupidity of this entire endeavor. He had not one, but three whole bull penises. The enormity of the situation hit me like a huge bag of one-eyed yogurt slingers, but I couldn’t give up at this point. So I went home immediately and posed for some cool pictures. As you can see above, a bull penis is around two-and-a-half feet long, just a little bit shorter than my own penis.

This is me, using a bull penis as a set of nunchuks.

One blow to the face would be devastating not only to your body, but to your very being. I mean, come on, imagine being whacked in the face with a bull penis at full force. You would die of shame. Just like I’m dying of shame right now because of this picture.

But two slippery penises are an even more formidable weapon. You can do the double-helicopter and become a true force of nature, a tidal wave of utter destruction. Man, I look like a little goblin in that photo.

A cock-goblin.

I brought the penises inside and showed them to the entire family. They were mortified. Bull penises smell like acrid cow pee.

To prepare them, you’ve first got to split them down the urethra. As you are reading these words, you’re involuntarily grabbing your crotches in sympathy pain. I tried using my knife, but after nearly cutting myself three times, I decided to use a rusty pair of kitchen shears instead. You’ve got to force the scissors into the pee-tube forcefully and snip from end-to-end. Once that’s done, you need to rinse bull peckers out like crazy to get the pee smell to go away. I went an extra step and let them sit in the fridge in fresh water overnight. That neutralized the odor completely.

I seriously did all of this.

Penises are covered in tough membranes that don’t cook well, so in order to peel them, you need to blanch them in boiling water for one or two minutes. I didn’t have my cell phone in hand to capture video, but once the bull wangs hit the water, they started wiggling around and stiffening up. One almost came out of the water. I screamed like a little girl the whole time they moved around. It was delightful.

Once they’re blanched, you can easily peel the membrane off with a little bit of force. It’s like peeling off a condom, except you’re peeling off actual tissue. Think of that the next time you’re having sex. I’m assuming all of you are loved and often have sex. I don’t remember what love is like anymore.

When I cook things like bull penises, I see myself marching towards cold oblivion alone, but at least I’ll have Harvey and Mr. Bee with me to keep me company.

That is the saddest thing I have ever written.

Penises are very tough unless you cook them for a long time. I thought about using my sous-vide machine, but since there’s no real resources online regarding immersion-cooking schlongs, I opted for a long simmer instead. I combined beef broth, onions, a whole head of garlic, soy sauce, fish sauce, and three-penis wine.

I simmered the penises for six hours. I imagined what my penis would look like after six hours in beef broth and promptly passed out.

As the cocks were stewing, I created a sauce. I started by steaming the cod sperm sacs. When they cook, they take on a pale off-white color. By itself, cod sperm has a very mild fishy taste along with a custard-like texture, kind of like brains. They even look like brains. People joke that men’s brains are in their nutsacks, but for fish, it’s apparently true.

Actually, my testicles contain my brains too. That’s why if you kick me in the balls I pass out and die.

I blended the cod sperm with some of the cooking stock and ran it through a sieve, ensuring I only got a refined fish jizz liquid. I briefly considered running the milt sacs through the juicer like my last post, but I didn’t want to waste anything.

As I finished the sauce by reducing it in a saucepan, and mounting it with a knob of butter (ha ha, knob), I sang this song at the top of my lungs.

Just before I was ready to eat, I prepared the penis pasta. Look at those adorable little penises. I imagine that this is what the inside of a Turkish bathhouse looks like.

To start, however, every good meal needs an appropriate beverage. In this case, I needed a cocktail because it has the word “cock” in it.

Mine would include Chinese three-penis wine. Chinese three-penis wine is fermented with deer, dog, and seal penis. I call that the “Holy Trinity of Penises.” By itself, it tastes kind of like rancid sherry with bitter aromatics and extremely strong, erect, herbaceous notes at the end. There’s a pronounced dog penis flavor, accented with the lovely notes of seal shaft and delicate flavor of deer dong. It’s mostly gross and really sweet. It’s basically cheap and extremely potent (40% alcohol) vermouth. Scrumptious.

But what kind of drink would I make? I needed something extremely classy, so I chose a riff on a Manhattan. I mean, Manhattan is a classy place, and it’s crammed full of dicks!

So I call this…The Whiskey Dick.

Ingredients:

• 2 oz. bourbon
• 1 oz. Chinese Three-Penis Wine
• Dash of Angostura Bitters
• Vienna Sausage carved into a penis named “Kanye West.”

Mix all of the liquid ingredients in a glass over ice, strain into a rocks glass that says, “Get a Life,” and garnish with the mini-sausage penis.

How do I just have Vienna Sausages lying around? My life is in worse shape than I thought. The Whiskey Dick is very strong — the ingredients are almost all 40% alcohol and up, so you might want to have it on the rocks. Actually, never make this, ever. It was gross. It tasted like Sambuca had sex behind a dumpster with a dog, a seal, and a deer, after it drank a handle of Old Grand-Dad.

This is what the penises looked like after they came out of the cooking liquid. They took on the deep mahogany color of beef broth and soy sauce. But the more important part was that they took on an extremely flaccid and supple texture, just like the schlong on an old guy who’s been in a sauna for two hours. I could write these descriptions forever.

I’m often told by strangers to “Eat a bag of dicks.” So inspired by this insult, I tossed the pasta in the silky fish jizz sauce, sliced the pizzle into medallions, and jammed the whole concoction into a ripped Ziploc bag. To garnish, I chopped off the tip of one of the penises and let it dangle over the side of the bag-bowl. I haven’t seen this many penises crammed into a small space since I took your mother to that sex club. That’s a memory she and I will share forever.

But, uh, how did the meal taste?

Let’s start with the pizzle. After cooking for so long, the bull penis took on a very gelatinous texture that melted away when I violently crammed it in my mouth. If you’ve ever had Korean beef-tendon soup, that’s basically what the texture of well-prepared penis is like. It’s like jello. The flavor of the savory, beefy broth bolstered with soy and fish sauce permeated every bite of bull cock. It finished with a slight anise-like bitterness from the three-penis wine, which was surprisingly satisfying, considering how awful the three-penis wine tasted by itself. The whole experience left me craving more cock.

The pasta coated in fish jizz was another story. Turns out when you reduce blitzed fish jizz, its flavor gets super-concentrated and it tastes like a one-night stand with Aquaman. I guess there’s a reason why you don’t see fish and beef paired together in one dish very often. That semen was terrible. I’m going to have nightmares about being in a gangbang with a bunch of cod now.

First of all, I never thought I would ever have an animal penis in my mouth in my lifetime, so I can check that item off my bucket list. My life is exactly like that movie Eat, Pray, Love. Second of all, turns out I like penis way more than I expected. Maybe that’s why no women got back to me on OkCupid. Maybe I should add “penis-eater” to my profile next time and see what happens.

Well, all epic meals need a good dessert, so I busted out the can of spotted dick and topped it with some homemade royal icing to keep with the theme. You see, the royal icing resembles semen. It’s very important that I point that out to you in case you didn’t understand why I chose this culinary angle. Semen.

Spotted dick, despite its name, has no actual penises in it. It’s a British pudding (basically cake) that’s studded with raisins, hence the term “spotted.” Traditionally, the fat comes from suet, which is rendered beef fat, but this Heinz canned version doesn’t have any beef fat in it. It’s super dense, oily as hell, and as sweet as your mother is to me after I take her to Arby’s, which is to say, tooth-achingly sweet. My mouth actually cried for mercy but I ate it anyway. But it was a fitting end to a trip to a culinary penis wonderland.

Thank you all for joining me on this magical trip across Penisville. I’m glad you’re here to witness a food writer who is going stark-raving mad, gobbling down peen like there’s no tomorrow. If you see me running down the street using a raw bull penis as a weapon, you better run, and quick. Or stay and watch the show. Whatever. It doesn’t matter.

Life has no meaning. Bye!