Valentines

breaking-up.jpgI broke up with my boyfriend the night before I took off for Ohio to canvass for Obama.  Well really, I broke up with him three nights later, but I knew in my head that I would do it the night before I left.  What I did that night before was tell him I could not talk to him for three days.  Three days of: landing in Ohio the morning after the red-eye; having breakfast with Carol Ogline (my 84 year old host) at the fanciest restaurant in Alliance; Ohio (where the side salad is $3.00 extra); driving to the Alliance, Ohio campaign office (the first national campaign office to ever exist there); taking off from the office to canvass down the street; getting chased down that same street by a rabid dog, finding out the owner was an Obama supporter and recruiting him to volunteer; returning to the office to make phone calls; going back to Carol Ogline's house and eating peanut butter sandwiches with her at 1am while her 1 month old puppy rolled around on the floor; getting back to the campaign office the next day to canvass some more; promising a man I would show up at 6am the day after election day and chop the wood piled in his yard if he voted; taking a picture at the end of that street; returning to the office to make phone calls; going to Applebee's with my volunteer coordinator; returning to the office the next day to canvass, swaying a voter, swaying another voter, going to another county to meet the 20 new volunteers that had just arrived; jumping on a conference call to hear Obama give us all an amazing half time speech; and going into the backyard after that phone call to sit by the empty pool and have that final phone conversation with my boyfriend.

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girl_cork_sm.jpgShe came highly recommended – like a great book, a fine restaurant, or a good plastic surgeon. Her name was Delilah, and our mutual friend, Nina, wanted to hook us up.

She described Delilah as a great beauty, with intellect and insight.

“She’s your muse,” said Nina.

I wasn’t falling for the hype. I didn’t want to go on a blind date. But Nina wouldn’t let up. She was sure that Delilah and I were perfect for each other.

I sighed and told her I’d think about it.

“Don’t think about it. Call her,” she insisted. “Fate doesn’t wait.”

 

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chinese.jpgTo me, a great date is one where you can do nothing with someone and be perfectly content. It's an easy formula: Good Company + Snacks in a Safe Environment = A+. Call me boring or slothful but it works for me. Lately though, my boyfriend really likes getting outside of the box and trying new things.

We crossed the Brooklyn Bridge and went to the flea market. We saw two Broadway shows in two consecutive weeks. We even took the train and went to his parents' house for a Japanese New Years party. All very out of the ordinary, all slightly uncomfortable. Good Company + Stress and Mobility = C-.

Two weeks ago, however, we had a bonafide A+ date. I got off of a long day at work, took a cab, and met Alex at his apartment. He opened the door, and we both had that pale, slightly purple tint that comes with working and winter. Four words came out of his mouth that reaffirmed why he is the greatest boyfriend and my greatest date: "Grand Sichuan and Lost."

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heart_tree1327423453.pngIt is, perhaps, telling that my two favorite holidays are a) non-religious and b) associated with the acquisition of large amounts of candy. I love the autumnal, supernatural-tinged crispness of Halloween, and I adore Valentine’s Day’s pink, and red, and sparkles, and lace, and…hearts. I could live forever without the mushy sentiments. When I was single the romantic aspects of the holiday left me anguished, desperate and anxious for the relief that came on the 15th of February. Now that I am old and married, I am largely of the opinion that if you express your love only (or even mainly) because of Hallmark, you have some work to do on the home front. It is not the sentiment, but the trappings that “send” me.

Although real, anatomical hearts are not particularly prepossessing as objects, they are beautiful in their own way. It would be hard to live without one. What I love, though, is the shape as old as the ice age, a shape that probably came from the combining of an ancient symbol for fire and that of the astrological sign Aries. It is, to my eyes, a perfect shape. It combines gentle curves for those who like curves, and they suggest other things that are rounded, erotic, comforting and otherwise love-worthy. For those who prefer straight lines and pointy things, there is everything below the curves, all straight lines and an exquisite point. Pentagrams are nifty, but they have nary a curve if the scribe is sober. The infinity symbol has two lovely, looping curves but what if one needs the crunchy edginess of a line or an acute angle?

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couercreme.jpgIt’s almost unseemly that so soon after the holidays I already find myself back in the midst of boxes of chocolate, imagining all the sweet treats I’d bake if only I had the time. But that is in fact the case.

I think it speaks to the nature of this month, and not just because Valentine’s Day is smack in the middle of February. I think it has more to do with the cold, long nights … all those hours between dinner and bedtime. What better way to spend them than baking scores of delicacies in the imaginary kitchen in your mind?

When I imagine the sweets that I would like to bake, there’s always one that makes a repeat appearance in my baking fantasies:  coeur à la crème.

French in origin, coeur à la crème means "heart of cream." A classic dessert, it’s components are simple and sublime.

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