Trite card optional

Staring at a blank page is probably a familiar beginning to any sort of journal/blog entry.  The need to write sometimes outweighs the ability to actually write something.  So please forgive the preamble as I try to locate a deep enough groove for words to lodge. 

Steph: Spoiler alert!!

Valentine’s Day is an obvious topic and the night did turn out pretty close to the way I wanted it to.  The boys were somewhat respectful of my request to retire to the upstairs as I needed some space to organize the quaint romantic dinner in front of the fireplace for Steph and me.  As she is in production, I gave her an 8pm arrival time to afford me an hour to put all the pieces in place so she could descend from the maelstrom of putting kids to bed and sit, on the floor, in front of a plate of mixed greens and warm herb encrusted goats cheese.  This worked for the most part, however she did slink down the stairs so quietly that I was unable to switch off the Raptor game, thus deflating the first impression of a candlelit room, with Valentine’s playlist and computer slideshow of our life playing in the background. 

Click – television is off and room is now ensconced in Sade and pictures of our kids Ken Burnsing in the background.  The salad is a hit, bought this cool four mini lettuces in a package thingy for $2.99 and was able to use one for a Caesar salad for the kids earlier (with homemade pizza where I finally was able to roll out the dough to fit the cookie sheet.  Previous attempts had it bounce back like a broccoli elastic and return to its rotund-shape – working with dough sucks).  So with a red leafy lettuce and a green stringy lettuce (not actual names), I added thinly sliced red onion, red pepper and cut grape tomatoes (in half?  nope, in quarters because that, is how I fucking roll.)  Yes the herbed goat’s cheese was store bought in the little round package, making it very simple to cut into fours and place in a banana bread pan for easy warming.  The first dressing I made was olive oil, white wine vinegar, seeded Dijon, clove of garlic and blueberries for a hint of sweetness.  I put it in the fridge for literally 15 minutes and when I brought it out, it had solidified like a little tart dressing gelatin mold.  I tried to nuke it back to liquid, but it turned out all gummy and there is no way I was going to ruin my pretty little colourful salad with a purple gelatinous dressing, I mean seriously.  So I went old school and olive oiled and vinegared the bad boy with just a hint of mustard for coverage and a little apple juice for sweetness.  Oh, the olive oil was basil infused so it had that going for it. 

So the main course.  I had promised salmon but the pieces at Metro were so small that I bought two tiny filets to surf and turf the hell out of this dinner.  I covered the salmon with a little Hoisin sauce and a hint of balsamic mustard because I don’t know what the hell I am doing.  Wait, I do know how to cook beef, salt and pepper, braise first to seal it, two flips for grill marks, let sit for at least 7 minutes after, roll eyes because it tastes so good. To complement the salmon and steak, I roasted asparagus and gorgeous (yeah I said it, so what) carrots with the leafy ends left on in ginger and olive oil.  Quartered new potatoes roasted in olive oil and sea salt finished off the plate. 

The meal was good.  The company even better.  We reminisced about the now 14 other Valentines we spent together (our princess Valentine) and how the almost 15 years together has flown by.  We were the hip urban DINKS, the subdued Danforth plus one, the adventurous global travelers and now the expanded North Toronto double income two kidded renters.  We have raised two reasonably spectacular boys which we both admitted was our greatest legacy.  We did all this laying next to a roaring fire in someone else’s house that we have made our home. 

Fast forward and after cleaning up together, we watched inane television eating our respective tubs of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream and before too long 11pm arrived and we hit the sack.  To read three pages and fall asleep.

I get the Hallmark holiday barkings and the increased movement to basically ignore this consumerist driven singular day in the calendar.  But we used it as an excuse to press pause on the imbroglio of our lives and it worked.  Sure I busted my ass to make everything perfect, but I am the first to admit that A) I love to cook and B) I love to create environments of appreciation, so I am not complaining. 

As we have both recognized in our tenure as a couple, time together is by far the greatest gift of all. And if I have to do everything to slice two hours of alone time with my best friend, I do it with pleasure.