Cosmina and the Marquis de Sade

The early 19th century French aristocrat the Marquis de Sade once said, "Sex is as important as eating or drinking and we ought to allow the one appetite to be satisfied with as little restraint or false modesty as the other."
A libertine at heart, this “Good Samaritan” was an advocate of extreme freedom, bound by no moral compass, religion, or law, a fact which kept him for the most part in prison.  Jail.  Why?
He would be a man after my own heart and libido today, if I were still so inclined.  I can’t say why the “Sade” popped into my head at this particular moment, as a delicate trickle of blood, like a crimson river, flowed gently down my butchered finger, around my knuckle, and dripped onto the summer squash I was preparing for dinner.  “Hypocrites,” I thought to myself.  “Damnit!” I shouted as I stood there watching red mix with yellow and wondering why there was no orange.
Sex and food.  I have a history with it, carnal knowledge, if you will, of intimate delicacies, succulent desires, tasty treats, and forbidden dishes.  It is no surprise to anyone, least of all to me, that the Sade figured this out centuries ago.  It is also no surprise that the French word for “ass,” “cul” spelled C-U-L, finds its way into the word culinary.  C-U-L inary.  The two are inseparable.  I have equally and permissively fallen in love with women and fresh-baked cookies, their plump round asses baking under a summer sun.  Sade understood perfectly the “five senses” of l’être humain; he exploited them to their fullest climactic potential.  Those who deny themselves these pleasures, yet say so while seated at your table, will not know what to do when the shucked oysters arrive.  See for yourself.
How do I know this to be true?  I’ve had a lesson or two.
My grandmother on my dad’s side was Portuguese.  My grandma Cosmina, not much taller than I was as a kid, couldn’t speak a lick of English but she could make a mean dish of “favish.”  It was a sort of poor man’s stew made with fava beans, potatoes, beef, turnips, carrots, onions, and several special ingredients that had everyone clamoring for more.  Portuguese comfort food if you will.  My mom tried making it a couple of times to please my dad but it usually ended up in the garbage disposal.  Her family was from Quebec.  Anyway, the story goes that my grandfather, whom I’ve been told I resemble, was a bit of a philanderer.  A womanizer.

Enya marks 50th with private castle bash

MULTI-millionaire singer Enya has celebrated her 50th birthday with a private bash at her home.
The notoriously private chanteuse hosted the event at her plush Manderley Castle in Killiney, Co Dublin, on Saturday night.
In attendance were members of her family from Gweedore, Co Donegal, including father Leo, from the famed Leo's Tavern, who flew from nearby Carrickfin Airport for the party.
The singer, who has sold a staggering 75 million albums worldwide and is worth an estimated €94m turns 50 tomorrow, but opted to celebrate her birthday at the weekend.
And she was surprised by the arrival of her younger sister, Olive, from Australia.
There was tight security around the star's mansion with a small number of specially invited guests present for the celebration.
The Donegal singer purchased the castle, formerly known as Ayesha Castle in 1997 and renamed it Manderley after the fictional residence in the Daphne du Maurier novel, 'Rebecca'.
A source close to the Brennan family in Co Donegal said they had been preparing for the party for weeks.
"Leo's Tavern has been quiet all week. Most of the family went up for the bash. Enya has been planning the party for months and the family were really looking forward to it," he said.
It emerged days ago that Enya was considering playing a series of rare live concerts to mark the release of her eighth album.