In the digital dark ages of food blogging, there’s a persistent, desperate trend: naming recipes like they’re trying to seduce you or get you to the courthouse. If I see one more "Marry Me" chicken, I might actually file for divorce, and I’m not even the one eating it!

​Let’s be real: If your marriage is hanging on a piece of poultry, you have bigger problems than dinner. My husband married me, not my ability to prepare a meal in the future. If he suddenly finds himself blinded by love because of a bit of heavy cream and sun-dried tomatoes, I’m going to be genuinely concerned about his priorities.

​Then there’s the "Better Than Sex" category of desserts and dips. That is a truly bizarre bar to set for a batch of cream cheese and spices. First of all, the comparison is both wildly optimistic and remarkably sad. Second, I’m not exactly looking to turn my dinner party into an episode of Fifty Shades of Cooking. I’m hosting friends, not trying to orchestrate an edible sexual awakening for my guests. This is not a culinary orgy!

​And can we talk about the "Dirty" trend? Nothing says "please ignore this recipe" like calling it "Dirty Italian Sausage Casserole." Why would I want to put the word "dirty" anywhere near my stove? It sounds like something you’d find behind a restaurant, not on a dinner plate. When was the last time someone asked you if you wanted to go grab a Dirty Pizza and you thought that sounded appealing? To me it sounds more like getting a reservation at the nearest dumpster for a piece of a slice.

​These titles don’t make me hungry; they make me scroll (and roll my eyes). In fact, they make me suspicious. If a dish is actually delicious, it doesn’t need to promise me a ring or a romp in the bedroom, I got that covered. Thanks. But, No.

​A great recipe name should tell me what I’m about to eat, not lie to me about its emotional or physical benefits. If you want me to cook your food, just tell me it’s a "Creamy Garlic Sausage Bake" or a "Slow-Roasted Herb Chicken." Keep the romantic grandiosity and the hygiene-related adjectives to better suited categories. I’m just trying to make dinner over here, not perform a miracle.