D is for "Dinner for my Dearest"

Good morning, everyone!

I have not been very active over the past few days as I've been struggling with a bad cold.  Good news is, I get a second day at home since the snow from yesterday pretty much incapacitated us.  And I can breathe through my nose now, hallelujah, but I have this super attractive cough.  I've also been told that I have super attractive bedhead right now as well.  So be it, I say, and where's my hot chocolate?

Anyway, today is a D day.  I was originally going to write about my Dad, but Jenny already did that.  It's okay though, because yesterday I was reminded of a dinner I made for my dearest two Valentine's Days ago.

I came up with the idea weeks in advance.  I decided that I would take the Friday before Valentine's Day off and make a super duper meal for my honey, only he wouldn't know about it.  And I really committed to this concept, to the point where he drove me to the train and pulled away...and I got on the bus to go back home.  Hee hee! I then went to the store and picked up my ingredients.

I decided to make the apartment into a restaurant of sorts.  I typed up a menu for the evening which I taped to the door leading into the apartment and called the place "Chez Bardall".  I put out flowers and candles.  I even made a sign reminding employees to wash their hands before returning to work, and taped it to the bathroom mirror.  That was a hoot, right there.

I spent most of the day cooking, and I really went all out.  I made fresh croutons and bacon bits for the salad, served with fresh bread and compound butter.  I wrapped shrimp in bacon and broiled them.  I made beef tenderloin roast with a chocolate wine sauce (incidentally, I would have drank that sauce through a straw) and stuffed potatoes.  And dessert consisted of chocolate truffles wrapped in phyllo and baked, then served with ice cream.

It was quite a meal.  And very low in calories, in case you were wondering.

However...as the day progressed...I found myself feeling more and more rundown.  I soldiered through - after all, I was not about to blow this - but by the time I was preparing myself for my dearest's arrival, I pretty much just wanted to lay down and go to sleep.  I was sure at that point that I was coming down with something.

Still, I got myself looking pretty (I even hot rollered my hair in the midst of all that cooking) and my man got home and was super impressed.  And we ate and drank and were merry.  That is, I was as merry as I could muster.

And then I went to lay down in bed because I could barely sit up through the meal.  I'm such a romantic.

And you know what he did for me? He cleaned up the kitchen.

That's a good man, right there.

The other day I was in the back room and saw a stack of programs from various concerts and shows we've been to which he was obviously getting ready to pack for moving.  And I came across an envelope which I just had to open, of course, seeing my handwriting on the front.  Inside was the card I gave him that night, along with the menu and bathroom sign, and a few rose petals. 

Yep.  A good man.

You're my Valentine every day of the year, sweetheart.  You have shown me more about love and patience in the past four years than I thought was possible in a lifetime.  Every single day you tell me I'm beautiful and make me believe that you believe it.  You make me feel special and smart and like a good person, even when I feel like the worst.  Everyone should be loved as well as you love me.  You're also my best friend, and you delight me on a daily basis with the disturbing and hilarious things that come out of your amazing mind.  And no matter what happens on this road we walk together, I'll stay by your side.  I love you so much.  

Happy Valentine's Day!

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