Spanking Fresh Kalter Hund

Kalter HundSometimes, things have a way of just happening to you. When I woke up one morning several weeks ago, I found myself looking forward to a lazy Sunday afternoon, followed by an evening of cocktails, theater, and dinner with a few friends.  If I had any plans apart from those, they were small ones– like wandering down the street to get coffee or sending off a few emails. Not once did I think to myself, “I think I’ll go get horse whipped by a severe-looking woman in a vinyl bustier and a Betty Page haircut.”

But that is precisely what happened.

Slap Happy

After a glass of prosecco and a few snacks at Bar Bambino, my friends and I trundled off to Hypnodrome  to see Pearls Over Shanghai– the lurid, acid-trippy faux-operetta originally conceived by the drug-addled minds of The Cockettes in the early 1970′s. I was prepared to be pleasantly horrified by bad acting, singing, and stage production. I was wrong on all counts. The show was delightful.

We said as much at the intermission, when we stood about sipping white wine, as theater-goers do. It was then that one of the characters from the play stood center stage, slapped a riding crop against her thigh, and announced that she was looking for someone to whip. My friend Gary, who has never in his life suffered from an inability to make himself heard, pointed at me and told the dominatrix that it was my 40th birthday. People began to chant something– I can no longer remember what– and the next thing I knew, I was on stage, told to remove my wallet from my back pocket, and compelled to get down on all fours.

I had expected some tame, playful ass-slapping, since this was theater and theater is based on illusion. I have since altered my theory about the dramatic arts. The woman whipped me hard, and then whipped me some more. When she stopped, I stood up– sore and humiliated. “Get back down, mister, we’re not done.”

Returning to my submissive position, the dominatrix asked the audience to count along with her to the number ten. She had previously given me thirty whacks. Since I was turning forty, she said she needed to give me ten more. As the count grew higher, so did the intensity of the whipping. There I was, on hands and knees and in a surprising amount of pain for the benefit of the audience. I have the vague feeling the tune “Happy Birthday” was sung to me, but I was too much in shock to remember. When I was released from my torture, the audience clapped loudly, videos and photos were uploaded onto Facebook and Youtube, and I forced a game smile as my bottom throbbed. I spent the rest of the show shifting in my seat in fascinated discomfort.

It seems I will do anything for applause.

Cold Comfort

After a session of severe whipping by a dominatrix, only dinner at a severe, East German restaurant would do, so we wandered into Walzwerk without reservations. I had secretly hoped we might be chastised or otherwise humiliated by the Walzwerk staff for our lack of forethought and organization, but nothing of the kind happened. We were, instead, welcomed and treated very well. As we stuffed ourselves with beet soup and wursts and beer, I considered the creamed herring on the table and wondered if it would somehow make a cooler, more comforting salve for my particular physical complaint than the mustard that stood next to it. I decided not to experiment with either at the table.

After our plates were cleared, our server asked if there was room for a bit of dessert. As most of us groaned, one of our party did the simultaneous finger pointing while silently, but dramatically mouthing the words “It’s his birthdaaaayyyyyy” that I see people do nearly every night in my particular line of work.

“Great!” our server said, “I’ll send you out a little something.”

That something was a slice of layer cake made of chocolate and butter cookies. “It’s called Cold Dog”, she said, “Kalter Hund.” Where the name came from I don’t know, but it was memorable. It was delicious, rich, and something I’d never before encountered, not unlike a riding crop (minus the rich and delicious). However, when “Happy Birthday” was sung to me for the second time that evening, I was filled with happiness instead of pain, and the cheeks which had turned red only a few hours before were finally upstaged by the redness of the other, more visible pair now flush with beer, and music, and the sweet afterglow of a birthday spent with old friends.

And, before you ask… No, I will not send you the Youtube link to the spanking video.

Kalter Hund mit Schlag

Makes one loaf.

This is a very simple dessert to prepare, and one that requires no baking, which makes it even better in my book.

If you’re looking  for the history of this dessert, I haven’t the faintest idea as to its origin. I recommend asking a German.

The addition of whipped cream is my own, though I somehow doubt I am the first to add it. It just makes sense, especially in my case. I look upon it as a sort of salve, given my experience. And it’s a great way to use up the extra coconut cream, not to mention a wonderful way to conjure up a bit of violent imagery.

Ingredients:

• 1 cup bittersweet chocolate, chopped
• 2 cups milk chocolate, chopped
• 3/4  cup cream of coconut (Goya brand works extremely well), using as much of the coconut fat as possible
• 1/2 cup heavy cream
• A splash of rum or other chocolate-and-coconut-friendly liqueur.
• Enough butter cookies/biscuits to line one’s loaf pan. I used Walkers short bread, because it is my favorite*.

For the Schlag:

• 1/2 cup heavy cream
• 4 tablespoons cream of coconut, using the liquid portion only
• Sugar to taste (there is sugar in the coconut cream, so tread carefully)

Preparation:

1. Line a loaf pan with parchment paper (this is key to the dessert’s removal later).

2. In a double boiler, add both chocolates and melt. Stir in coconut fat/cream and heavy cream. Whisk gently until well-blended. Add your splash of booze, if desired, and gently whisk again.

3. Spoon enough of the chocolate mixture into the bottom of the loaf pan. Gently lay the cookies in an even layer across the chocolate. Cover with chocolate, add another layer of cookies. Repeat the process until you have reached the near-top of the loaf pan. Fill in any gaps with the remaining chocolate.

4. Cover and set pan in refrigerator for at least six hours. Better if left overnight.

5. For the whipped cream, whip the cream until soft peaks form, then add coconut cream. Whip some more, since this will certainly thin out the soft peaks. Taste. Adjust  the sugar level to your liking. I don’t recommend a very sweet cream since the dessert is extremely so.

To serve, slice thin (you really won’t need any more than a thin slice, I swear) pieces and dollop with cream. I like to eat mine while seated on one of those donut-shaped inflatable cushions, just to remind myself of my very special birthday evening.

*Walkers biscuits are much thicker than those traditionally used. Most Kalter Hund cakes have several layers of thin biscuits. Mine generated only three, but I am very comfortable with that number since I am not German.

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About Michael Procopio

I write about food and am very fond of Edward Gorey. And gin.
This entry was posted in Holidays, Stage, Film, and Television, Sweets and the Like and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

10 Responses to Spanking Fresh Kalter Hund

  1. Petra says:

    I’m german and I’m really interested in Food History, especially the history of dishes, but please don’t ask me about Kalter Hund … This cake has several names in Germany, “cold dog” is just one of them. I know that it was very popular in the 1960s and 1970s, especially at children birthdays. There is an entry in the german Wikipedia which says the name would be derived from a certain tool in coal mines, a little squared waggon called “Grubenhund” (“mine-dog”). But I would not bet any money at this explanation.

  2. roy says:

    never heard of Kalter Hund, anything that doesn’t require baking looks to be a great summer dessert.

    hrmmm…how to add something to the whipping conversation without devolving into tackiness or revealing too much personal information…

    so, seems like there are lots of birthdays in September. Hope your 40th was great.

  3. michaelprocopio says:

    Petra– Thank you! I couldn’t find any information on this damned dessert, so I am grateful for any little tidbits you can throw my way.

    Roy– I think I might have already revealed too much personal information. Of course, that’s what blogs are for, right?

  4. Jay says:

    I can’t help but think of this as chocolate lasagna. What’re you gonna’ do — spank me?

  5. Nicky D. says:

    Great. When I come to town all I get trundled out to is the glee club.

  6. michaelprocopio says:

    Jay– You’re entirely too tall to spank. I would look rather foolish trying.

    Nicky– Well, the next time you come for a visit, we’ll do whatever you want to do. I promise.

  7. jodi says:

    I thought you’d embed the video. Happy Birthday! Belated–but still…

    You made me laugh till my cheeks hurt. :)

  8. michaelprocopio says:

    Jodi– I have conveniently forgotten the name(s) of the person(s) responsible for the video(s). Thanks for the belated wishes and for cheering me with your comment.

  9. Deborah says:

    Michael,
    Erik and I had dinner with a couple of friends of ours who’ve been encouraging us to go to the Cockettes shows at the Hypnodrome. One of them showed us video on her iPhone of her on-stage spanking by dominatrix — as if that would seal the deal. Happy belated birthday. Guess this accounts for the spring in your step!

  10. michaelprocopio says:

    Deb– The Cockettes show was fascinating. Truly. It’s good to know I am not alone in getting spanked by stage dominatrixes. Did she mention how much it hurt?

    I wouldn’t say that a whipping would account for the spring in my step. I accredit that to excellent shoes.

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