Apartment-hunting in New York City is serious business, practically a full-time job in itself. I’ve heard from friends tales of going to see a prospective sublet, only to find themselves walking up the stairs behind someone toting a checkbook, ready to sign over a deposit on the spot. Before I even arrived in the city I had already experienced a taste of this failure, as two very promising apartments both fell apart over my two-day drive from Portland to Wisconsin. It seemed every time my phone buzzed, it was reporting more bad news. Despondent and prospectless as I arrived in the city last week, I spent hours laboring over my standard email response to Craigslist ads, hoping I could present myself and my dog as two witty, lovable cads no self-respecting roommates could ever pass by. And my work paid off, as I heard back from the vast majority of ads I responded to, but after hearing from one respondent that I was one of EIGHTY potential roommates, I knew I needed a secret weapon. Enter Gwyneth and her Mutti’s Pecan Butterballs.
The Mutti in question is Gwyneth’s grandmother, whom she famously called a “real cunt.” She keeps things more family-friendly in the cookbook, euphemistically calling her “how shall I say this? — a unique person.” But she raves about Mutti’s balls (oh, stop), so I knew these were just the thing I needed to give me a leg up on all my roommate competition in this fierce city.
Plus, they’re so easy! Using my hands, I just mixed together two sticks of unsalted butter, a bit of flour, and two cups of crushed pecans. I then rolled them into small balls and baked them for roughly 20 minutes. Once they had cooled a bit, I just rolled them in powdered sugar, and there we have Mutti’s Butterballs! Or, as we’ve taken to calling them: cunt balls.
Cunt balls, pre-sugar.
Seeing as these are basically just butter, pecans, and sugar, you know they’re pretty good. Sadly, they’re very dry. Pop one of these cunt balls in your mouth, and immediately all the moisture in your body departs through your salivary glands. It’s an absolute must to have a glass of water on hand when eating one of these cookies. It’s like trying to eat eight saltine crackers in under a minute.
But dry cunt balls be damned, I knew it would be the thought that counted, so I wrapped a few in tin foil for each showing and presented them to all my prospective roommates as, “bribery cookies.” And were they successful? Well, out of four apartment showings early last week, I got four offers — including the place with over eighty prospects. (Sadly, nothing has become concrete with any of these offers yet, as landlords in this city are definitely the offspring of Satan.)
Score one for that old cunt Mutti!