The Sexy Yet Tasteful Yet Erotic Episode of “Barefoot Contessa”

The one where Ina and Jeffrey celebrate their sex-iversary.

That oh-so-familiar instrumental ditty. Quick montage of thee Ina Garten laughing with Husband Jeffrey/ cutting basil/walking alone on the beach contemplating her mistakes, which are few.

INT. GARTEN BEDROOM — AFTERNOON

St. Ina is wearing her signature oversized denim button-down with a popped collar. She fluffs one of eight large decorative pillows that cover her bed.

INA: Jeffrey and I routinely make love on Wednesday nights but tonight is extra special — it marks the 46th anniversary of the night he deflowered me. To celebrate, we’re going to rawdog like we are teenagers again. But first, I’m going to make him a beautiful dinner that will help us last through the night: champagne and oysters to start, then quail with garlic for stamina, and finally, nothing is better than chocolate Grand Marnier covered strawberries for dessert. I think he’s going to love it.

Music picks up again. Exterior of her house in East Hampton, which is beautiful.

Title Card: *bareback contessa

INT. GARTEN KITCHEN — AFTERNOON

My Goddess Ina, who I pray to every night for forgiveness and for strength, is in the kitchen taking ingredients out of the fridge.

INA: It’s important to keep the food light before any sort of romantic anniversary. (sarcastic tone that implies this has happened before) It’s no fun when someone falls asleep early because he had seconds on meatloaf. Oysters are the perfect aphrodisiac because they are easy and they also remind men of vaginas.

Close up of slicing lemons. Lemon juice squirts everywhere.

INA: Isn’t that smell just wonderful?

All Praise Ina doesn’t realize I can’t smell through the television except, wait, 
can I?

Close up of her shucking oysters and explaining her first sexual experience with Jeffrey, which was gentle, sweet, and orgasmic. That was not what happened to me.

She plates the oysters on a silver platter they got as a wedding present from an actual Princess.

INA: How easy was that?

Exterior of beautiful East Hampton house I will never afford.

Commercial break where I remember I’m allergic to shellfish and can never shuck oysters for any man.

Has someone turned the theme music into a ringtone yet and how do I purchase?

INT. GARTEN KITCHEN — SAME

Goddess Ina is putting the final oyster on ice.

INA: Now, I can say our sex life is pretty healthy but not without a few tricks. I’ve sent Jeffrey to my favorite sex shop on the way home from work for an orange-flavored lube. It will compliment the strawberries and really bring out the orange in the Grand Marnier perfectly, don’t you think? Now let’s just hope he doesn’t forget…

EXT. HAMPTONS ROAD — AFTERNOON

Adorable Jeffrey drives in a convertible with the top down going a little too fast for my liking.

JEFFREY: Ina and I have been having sex for so long, I know every curve of her body blindfolded. Still, she always continues to surprise me. For our 20th, we traveled to Paris and we did it on the top of the Eiffel Tower. Honestly, I don’t know what was a better view — the lights of Paris, or my wife.

Sweet, Sweet Jeffrey pulls up to the quaintest artisanal sex shop. Along with handcrafted dildos, they also make their own soaps. The soaps are shaped like penises.

INT. SEX SHOP NAMED SOMETHING DELICATE LIKE “BLOSSOMS”

Confused but Ever-Earnest Jeffrey looks at a display case of lube, puzzled.

JEFFREY (to no one): I think this is where the edible lube is… (reading labels) chocolate, strawberry, raspberry… I know Ina and she won’t settle for raspberry. Hmm…

A sales associate takes Cute-as-a-button but Smart-as-a-Whip Jeffrey’s shoulders and turns him around. A-ha! A whole display of different organic, orange-flavored lubes.

Cut to the sales associate gift-wrapping the lube. He asks Husband-of-the-Year Jeffrey if he has any special plans tonight.

Jeffrey: Yes, I’m going to blow myself! (pause) I’m joking, just sweet lovemaking with my wonderful wife.

He winks to the sales associate and, more importantly, giggles to himself as he walks out.

INT. GARTEN KITCHEN — SAME

Back to the kitchen. My Precious Ina starts preparing the quail.

A pound of butter is dropped onto a skillet. Ina tells us how she and Jeffrey once used butter as a lubricant but it was too messy and I’m learning so much.

Lots of garlic and salt are also used. She puts the quail in the oven.

She prepares the Grand Marnier chocolate-covered strawberries.

Close up on chopping very expensive chocolate. My Wise Ina explains why she and Jeffrey decided not to have kids but I’m not listening because I know the reason is because they haven’t met me yet and when they do, they will adopt me. I’m in my twenties and it would be great to get on their insurance.

Close up on washing the most beautiful strawberries I’ve ever seen. She renders the chocolate in a pan. Close up of the bottle of Grand Marnier pouring into the chocolate. The alcohol pours for, no joke, an entire minute of silence.

INA (trancelike): I’m getting very horny.

Commercial break. What does it mean to kill your idols and whoever said that, is he in jail?

The instrumental returns and will be stuck inside my head for seven days.

INT. GARTEN BEDROOM — EVENING

Classic Ina has transformed into Sexy Ina. She seductively poses on the bed in an oversized denim button down with a lace-trimmed popped collar and there is an extra twinkle in her eye, the kind of twinkle that only shines when a woman knows she is about to get laid. Candles are lit, the champagne is poured and the oysters are displayed, license-free Spanish guitar plays in the background.

INA: And now for the final touch!

She pulls out a small blue pill and places it at the base of a champagne flute. We hear a door opening.

INA: Jeffrey’s home!

Giddy Jeffrey enters, smiling. They kiss.

JEFFREY: Oh Ina! This is wonderful!

INA: Happy Sexiversary!

She raises her flute of champagne. Non-threatening Jeffrey grabs for his, sees the pill, and pops in his Viagra. He pulls out the lube and she smiles. He raises his champagne and they cheers. A kiss turns French turns make-out. They stop and look directly at the camera.

JEFFREY: Some privacy?

EXT. GARTEN BEDROOM DOOR

We hear a few seconds of primal humping outside the bedroom door.

INT. GARTEN BEDROOM — LET’S SAY 20ish MINUTES LATER

My future mama and papa have just finished making love. They lie in bed, flushed-faced and sweaty. Empty oyster shells everywhere.

JEFFREY: Wow, that was amazing!

My Clever Ina leans over to the nightstand, which is also a warming oven. She pulls out two small roasted quails on a tray.

JEFFREY: What’s this?

INA: What goes better with missionary than garlic roasted quail?

They begin eating with their hands, juices everywhere. I reconsider everything about I know about myself as a lover, friend, and taxpayer.

JEFFREY: This reminds me of the quail we had in Paris!

INA: Everything reminds you of Paris!

Suddenly a primal Jeffrey looks at a primal Ina eating her quail right off the bone. Overcome with passion, he throws his quail over his shoulder and climbs on top of her.

JEFFREY: Camera people, get out!

EXT. GARTEN BEDROOM DOOR — AGAIN

More primal humping sounds. A Pinterest-esque sign that reads ‘You Will Forever Be My Always’ falls off the door.

INT. GARTEN BEDROOM — 2–6 HOURS LATER

These soulmates lie with each other in unity and know no greater joy than that. Me either.

JEFFREY: Wow, the last time we did that, Reagan was still in office!

INA: I have one last surprise…

She pulls out a pan of about 100 chocolate covered strawberries from under the bed.

INA: Open wide!

She feeds him and then herself. They Eskimo kiss and are the only couple south of the Yukon to do so.

INA: I love you.

JEFFREY: I love you too Ina. Always and forever.

They snuggle and begin to fall asleep.

INA: What do you want to dream about tonight?

JEFFREY: Let’s go back to Paris.

INA: Wonderful, see you there soon. Bonne nuit, mon amour.

The sweet lullaby of the theme song soothes us all to sleep.


Madeline Hester lives in Chicago now. She’s on Twitter, but mostly Instagram.