'Enter the Void': A Milkshake Recipe

This is a great recipe that a friend of mine turned me on to. He’d made it three times in a fortnight, and enjoyed it more every time, calling it “nice”. The last batch he made was even bigger, and that’s the recipe below, because I know you’ll love it so much dear readers!

(I know, I know, a lot of the ingredients are hard to source, and it won’t be to everyone’s taste, but it’s pretty mind-blowing – if you’re not faint of heart give it a shot!)

1 Tibetan Book of the Dead

2 slightly ripe but effective performances

1 enfant terrible auteur with the talent of Stanley Kubrick (try to get one from French Argentina if you can)

1 aborted foetus

3 replays of the same car accident (these should get more horrible as you go on)

25 pills of DMT

1 Avatar, stoned

A generous handful of sex

1 bunch of voids (various)

First, cut up the Book of the Dead into large pieces so it’s impossible to miss. Sprinkle liberally throughout. This makes it hard to ignore, but the solid flavouring helps the guide the mouth through the rest of the dish.

Simmer the ideas behind the milkshake for several decades in the mind of the enfant terrible, then let this loose with a modest but well used budget. Don’t worry about technical problems or any absence of craftsmanship – despite apprehensions to the contrary, this will remain perfectly formed throughout.

Boil off any similarities to Panic Room and Cloverfield, but be careful not to skim off the flavours also found in Avatar. Use a heavy-bottomed metropolis like Tokyo, and keep the neon pink/blue/green stove-light lit and all times.

Those big name stars like Monica Bellucci? – leave them on the shelf!, you don’t want to detract from the uniqueness of the recipe.

Make sure the sexual perversion doesn’t thicken into tastelessness – keep it on a low heat but don’t let it turn rancid: it needs to leave a pleasant taste in the mouth.

Add the DMT liberally (and any other class-A’s in your possession), but be sure to fold in a zero-tolerance tract about the horrendous consequences of being a junkie.

The final product should resemble a French cheese, with plenty of holes (or, ha ha, voids!) all over it, with much the same flavour – but this isn’t a Summer Hollywood bag of revels, but a mellower dish. It should float on the senses, being challenging and spicy at times, sometimes scrumptious and inviting.

Serve in individual bowls and let everyone take from it what they wish.