Happy Valentines Day.
When I was 14 it meant who would hold my hand who would buy me chocolate who would buy me flowers… a bonus if smiles and movie tickets were attached and maybe if he followed me around I would have thought twice.
A brief hand shove of the highlighted feather hair ahhhh, a tilt to the left and “he” was mine for life.
At 36, husband of my dreams, baby of my life, things are different. We don’t focus on flowers, chocolate (my husband might argue this) or whimsical cards. For us, Valentine’s Day is just a made up day, another government tactic to profit from all of us. Celebrate Valentines Day! Buy flowers that are overpriced! Buy stuffed animals made in China! Buy terrible “chocolate” and surprise your wife with heart-shaped hamburgers from McDonalds. I cough when I mention the name. McDonalds who so recently banned “pink slime” in their meat because of one chef (thank you Jamie).
We, the Cynics, tend to celebrate in a different way. We took a much needed train ride to the city and had a grand lunch at Boulud Sud. We had a great chat with our friend JP, the GM, and a surprise visit from the CDC at the French Laundry (Hi Tim!) soon after. It was lovely.
We arrived home-side at 5PM (as opposed to “curb-side” when we were budding chefs) and thought, why not continue the anti-Valentines Day celebration? We visited our local haunt and drank very good rosé wine way too early for my personal limits (I usually start rosé at the first break toward spring, certainly not tonight). It was delicious. We didn’t talk about work, we didn’t talk about life, and at one point I caught a glimpse of Us holding hands.