Take Me to Outback, then Hit It from the Back

So funny story behind the conception of this blog: I was running errands during the weekend. You know, the usual: Trader Joes, Aldis, thrifting, etc… While I was driving, I passed by Outback Steakhouse and had a visceral reaction where I caught myself lowkey moaning a bit at the thought of drinking a boozy Blueberry Lavender with their complimentary bread and honey butter plus the Kookaburra wings as appetizers to start and then a Ribeye Steak (medium-rare) with that A1 sauce on the side and a double side of fries.

Crazy, right? Lol

The sound escaped my mouth and I couldn't help but laugh because it was so not like me, but then again, maybe it was, who knows?

While this happened, my mind instantly remembered an anime show called "Food Wars (Shokugeki no Soma)," which I'll preface in saying that it is not kid friendly. In the show, you'll see characters experience "foodgasms" when they taste exceptional dishes by either renowned chefs or students in the elite Totsuki Culinary Academy. The show depicts exaggerated reactions that kind of blurs the lines between culinary and sexual ecstasy.

The Pleasure Connection: Why Food and Sex Are Fundamentally Linked

My visceral reaction to Outback and associating it with this anime show led me to researching the connection between food and sex. I'm exploring how our experiences of culinary and sexual pleasure share profound biological, cultural, and psychological connections. When we're honest and mindful about what we hunger for, both on our plates and in our bedrooms, we end up living healthier, more fulfilling lives.

Hence, I cleverly thought why do I have to choose one or the other. Why not both?

So, take me to Outback and then hit it from the back *winkwink

The Shared Neural Circuits of Satisfaction

That unexpected moan over Outback Steakhouse wasn't just me being dramatic; it actually reveals something fascinating about how our brains process pleasure. The brain doesn't distinguish between different forms of pleasure. It's all just dopamine and serotonin flooding the same circuits. When neuroscientist Dr. Kringelbach (2009) says "Food and sex are our primary sources of pleasure," he's confirming what our bodies already know: these core drives share the same neural highways.

The mid-orbitofrontal cortex doesn't care if you're savoring a perfect chocolate ganache or experiencing sexual pleasure. It lights up identically on fMRI scans, as demonstrated in Berridge and Kringelbach's research (2015). Evolution didn't waste energy creating different systems for each survival need. Instead, it repurposed and connected existing systems to handle multiple survival functions efficiently. The message is simple: seek food, seek reproduction, perpetuate existence.

"Food Wars" isn't just being provocative with those over-the-top pleasure reactions. The anime is actually reflecting real brain science about how we respond to delicious food, just with some artistic exaggeration. Those seemingly ridiculous scenes tap into something genuine about how our bodies physically respond to exceptional sensory experiences, like my unexpected reaction to just thinking about Outback's menu.

Cultural Taboos: The Regulated Appetites

Just as my momentary food-moan made me laugh at myself, we all carry certain expectations about how we "should" express pleasure. These reactions aren't random; they're programmed by our cultural context. Every culture develops elaborate regulation systems for both eating and sexuality. These aren't random. They're advanced systems that both create unity among people and maintain existing power structures at the same time.

Meyer-Rochow's research (2009) confirms food taboos exist universally, while Haines notes they "establish identity as much as they regulate consumption." These restrictions serve as boundary markers. Who's in the group and who isn't based on what they'll put in their mouths.

Tōtsuki Academy's elaborate hierarchy in "Food Wars" isn't just anime nonsense. It's a perfect metaphor for how societies ritualize pleasure access. The "shokugeki" battles dramatize the very real power struggles around who controls pleasure in society, much like the dynamics Douglas (1966) identified in her anthropological studies of purity and danger. These fictional cooking battles mirror the same social dynamics that made me second-guess my own spontaneous reaction to craving Outback.

The Language of Desire

Notice how I described my Outback Steakhouse craving earlier. The terms I used could easily describe either food or a passionate encounter. This linguistic overlap isn't coincidental. The vocabularies of food and sex are essentially interchangeable because physiologically, they trigger identical responses. As Fenster (2011) notes, "The romantic dinner is still one of the most recommended forms of therapy for couples in counseling" because these pleasures are neurologically linked.

We describe both food and sex as "satisfying," "fulfilling," and "indulgent" because linguistically, we can't separate these fundamental drives. Our language reveals the underlying biological truth that Lakoff and Johnson (1980) identified in their work on conceptual metaphors.

"Food Wars" intentionally uses words typically associated with sexual pleasure to describe food experiences. The creator isn't just trying to shock viewers, he's using our common language of desire to build tension and connect with experiences everyone understands. The show's exaggerated reactions tap into the same linguistic connection that made my craving for a Ribeye steak feel almost illicit.

When Food Replaces Sex (And Vice Versa)

My unexpected Outback craving might also reveal how these fundamental appetites connect and sometimes substitute for each other. Dr. Scheel (2014) observes that "food and sex are a means unto their own; their motivations are pure, primary." Yet both frequently become "vehicles and substitutions for fulfillment of other needs."

Research by Evers et al. (2010) confirms significant correlations between emotional eating patterns and sexual behavior, especially during stress. When one appetite faces restriction, the other intensifies as compensation. Our fundamental drives find expression one way or another. That visceral reaction to Outback might have been telling me something about other appetites in my life needing attention.

The Outback Philosophy: Embracing Authentic Appetite

My moment of food desire in the car represents something bigger: how we relate to pleasure itself. Michael Pollan (2008) identifies America's fundamental contradiction: "The more we worry about nutrition, the less healthy we seem to become." Our anxieties about food reflect deeper cultural conflicts about pleasure itself.

Esther Perel (2006) observes the same pattern in sexuality. "Desire needs space. It is like fire: it needs air to burn. Without air, it dies out; with too much air, it burns everything." Overly regulated approaches inevitably diminish satisfaction, whether we're talking about diets or intimacy.

"Food Wars" presents cooking as authentic self-expression. Soma, the protagonist in the show, succeeds not through technical perfection but through risk-taking and cooking without pretension. True expertise comes from genuinely accepting our desires instead of just acting to please others. My spontaneous reaction to Outback was authentic in a way that carefully planned, "appropriate" pleasures often aren't.

Conclusion: The Mindful Integration

Research by Kristeller and Wolever (2011) confirms mindful engagement with pleasure leads to healthier relationships with both food and sex. "Cultural values are responsive to behavior, and vice versa. This relationship may be heightened in the face of extreme consequences."

When we embrace appetites without shame we create healthier relationships with both domains. The path to satisfaction begins with one radical act: Honor hunger instead of apologizing for it.

Like the most memorable "Food Wars" meals, deep satisfaction comes when we let go of unnecessary limits and connect honestly with what we truly want. True satisfaction comes not from rigid external rules but from experiences honoring both tradition and individual appetite.

In both eating and intimate relationships, the best approach is what "Food Wars" shows through its characters. Enjoyment sought with self-awareness and honesty isn't something to feel guilty about. It's a fundamental part of human experience.

Thinking about my unexpected reaction to Outback Steakhouse, maybe it wasn't actually odd. Perhaps my body was simply recognizing a basic truth: our desires, whether for food like Kookaburra wings or for intimate experiences, come from the same genuine core within us. The answer isn't to suppress these desires, but to thoughtfully welcome what brings real satisfaction.

So yeah, take me to Outback, then hit it from the back. Maybe there's wisdom in embracing both appetites after all.