K-Y Jelly is My New Jam

Or: What Not to Spread on Bread

When cleaning out my armoire the other day, I happened upon a very old tube of sexual lubricant (Yes, I realize that’s quite a lot of information for an opening sentence.). It was never used for its original, intended purpose, but still it made me feel nostalgic. Not for any sexual conquest that might have been, but rather because that blue, squeezable tube nabbed me my first James Beard Award nomination.

This short essay hasn’t seen the light of day in ten years, so I thought I might give it a bit of an airing, just like the contents of my armoire.