About ten years ago, after a painting that she’d been working on disappointed her, my mother dragged the canvas out onto the front lawn. Still in her painting clothes, she proceeded to rip it apart with a small hatchet, reducing a 3 by 5 foot work of art to an abundance of 3 by 5 inch works of art. A few weeks later, she sent them, without explanation, to her friends and family for Valentine’s Day. (The whole thing was a little “Vincent’s ear”, and the parallel did not escape her: she did a series of Van Gogh’s disembodied ear the next fall. She also set fire to a couple of those, and then did a painting of them on fire. And yes, I was an anxious child.) The canvas scrap my mother sent to me that Valentine’s contains the original painting’s full signature. Of all the fragments of her destroyed work, each one a tiny relic of perfectionism and mania, I got the one with her name on it!
Receiving the portion with her signature, the veritable corner piece to the puzzle of her insanity, really means something to me. I can see how, when other people opened their valentines that year, they might have felt a vague sense of reproach, instead of the more common Valentine’s message: affection.
Chocolate molten cake is my personal weakness. I cannot go without ordering it when I see it on a restaurant menu. Fairly common on many menus, it is a dessert that is not always created euqal. I can attest to this because I've tried pretty much all of them. But the best molten chocolate cake I've ever had is the one served at Jean Georges Restaurant; it's a signature dish of the restaurant and is on the menu at practically all of Jean Georges's establishments. For me it is an unforgettable dish. And I convince all my friends to try it too; I rarely have to force them. As the saying goes, dessert is served last, but don't let it be least, especially not this one.
Around fifteen years ago, my wife and I decided that eventually we wanted to leave Los Angeles and move to the country. Although neither of us had ever lived on a farm, we both had grandparents who did and had fond memories of visits where we “helped” with chores such as milking and gathering eggs. However, I soon learned to avert my eyes whenever I saw my grandmother pick up a chicken, as I knew this was Step 1 of the recipe for the pot pie which would appear on the supper table. 
Admit it, no one has gotten to this point in their life having had one gleeful Valentine's celebration after another. Unlike the envelope of dime store Valentines from everyone in your fifth grade class things have probably changed over the years. Perhaps there is no one "special" in your life except for some close friends or co-workers or maybe this is the year that you can't wait for that solid red holiday of love and chocolate! What do I fantasize about, what would rock my world?
There's nothing more cozy than cuddling up on the sofa with a book and a box of chocolates on a chilly Winter day. And it seems I'm not alone in my love of pairing chocolates with a good read. For Valentine's Day this year one of my favorite chocolatiers