A recipe for my sexy pie

If you ask me...cooking in Crocs or wellington boots is not quite as sexy, but a shit-load of sugar and some "highly sensual sighs" make up for it

If you ask me, I am extremely happy to announce that, ahead of Nigella's new book and accompanying TV series, Nigellisima, I have been given permission to publish one of her recipes in advance. This is the recipe for her 'Tumescent Pie' which, I am sure, will become a firm family favourite, and is reprinted here in full:

'Ingredients:

Silky robe

Slinky mules (organic, preferably)

Six buckets of double cream

A shit-load of sugar

All the eggs, butter and cocoa there is in the world.

A rubbing motion of the kind that would make even a tomato thrill, swell, then explode.

‘Directions: Attire yourself in the silky robe and slinky mules. The mules are optional and you may try this  recipe with other types of footwear  - Crocs, for example, or Wellington boots, if you are quite poor - but the results will not be the same. The silky robe should be open enough to suggest the soft, milky white body of a late-career Ingress portrait, at its most Ingress-y, but not so open it merely says 'slutty slutty slut slut.'

Before placing the mixture in the oven, fork-prick to soften then, using the soft pads of your hands, palpate until it begs you to stop.

'Mix the six buckets of cream with the shit-load of sugar. Taste frequently by sucking your fingers and emitting highly sensual sighs of mouth-filled delight. If it dribbles down your chin, so be it. Before adding the eggs, tease them a little with fond strokes of the kind that would make a tomato thrill and swell. If you do not tease in this way, your pie will not tumesce sufficiently. If in doubt, softly mutter: 'Mummy knows best.' Or: Who's been  a naughty boy?'  Before placing the mixture in the oven, fork-prick to soften then, using the soft pads of your hands, palpate until it begs you to stop. Bake, and while it is doing so, enjoy a glass of Prosecco and some tiny bits of shockingly expensive ham with friends who wear sunglasses on their heads and look as if they work in advertising.  If the conversation palls, impale a lemon on a skewer, regard it with an expression of profound soulfulness, then say enticingly: "I do love a good impaling."

'Remove pie from oven and, once it has cooled, lick it all over while awarding it a momentary glimpse of it your bra strap. To serve, bring the butter to room-temperature, add cocoa, and roll around in it. Or you could offer mash.'

Like I said, this is something I will probably cook again and again. Or I could just bang some nuggets on the table and say: 'That's it.' This is always the temptation.

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