I was pretty impressed when I cruised one list of Top Valentine’s Day Gifts For Men. But after careful consideration, I decided to go a more traditional route.
See, while the Pickle-of-the-Month gift idea had a certain appeal (pickles are one of Tom’s favorite food groups), when I imagined sitting down to a candlelight dinner on 2/14 and handing him this month’s selection, it just seemed like a buzz kill.
I thought seriously about the personalized romance novel. Called “Blood Lust,” the manufacturer promises the customized book will feature 30 personal details. I’m not sure I have that many personal details (are they gonna discuss my back scratcher? My Necco wafer obsession?), but I am sure I don’t want them exposed in any book, no matter how limited the distribution. (Also, there’s a disconcerting typo in the promo: Cosmopolitan Magazine calls this book “One of the sexist (sic) gifts ever!”)
Another top pick was the Ultimate Stock Car Ride-Along. The giftee gets to ride shotgun, at 150 mph, in a stock car race, with a “professional” driver at the wheel. Now, call me a softie, but I decided I didn’t think it was friendly to gift my husband with an activity that would almost certainly result in his death.
Aside from those choices, I loved the Custom Bobble Head, but it seemed overpriced at $105, and the World’s Largest Gummy Worm seemed like too much of a good thing. So, I decided to head to the kitchen and make Tom some chocolate truffles. (All he really wants is chocolate anyway.)
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! 
While I may be a decent home cook - I have my share of successes in front of the stove and am pretty good at food and wine pairings - I loathe baking. It’s just too precise for me and since we rarely eat sweets anymore - I’ll take the cheese course over the dessert course every day of the week - I’ve never felt compelled to get any better at it. Which is weird because I really like science. I am super impressed by what people are able to create, but the time and energy involved makes me want to run from the kitchen.
, I knew I hit the jackpot. We are big fans of his cooking and while I love this book, many of the recipes in it are still way out of my league. Most of the desserts, however, are classics and while not necessarily always simple to make, they rely on basic ingredients and clear techniques that aren’t out of the wheelhouse of most home cooks.