I do not like hearts. Or roses. Or those tiny candies with cheesy sayings printed on them. (Why don't people realize they taste like chalk?)
I do not like the way many restaurants gouge diners on Valentine's Day. (No self-respecting foodie will put up with this.) I do not like competing for reservations. I do not like "going out" because that's what you're "supposed to do" on this "holiday."
I do not like crowds.
We stayed home, much like the way we did the night before, and the night before that. There were no flowers or balloons or sappy cards (although his parents sent us an awesome card with kittens on it -- and I can't resist anything with kittens, especially if they are ginger kitties, like our kids). And it was nice.
He did make dinner, though: Orange Roughy topped with a wild mushroom sauce, asparagus seasoned with Meyer lemon juice from the tree outside, brussels sprouts with mustard, all paired with sake.
It was fabulous. And I almost fell asleep on the couch immediately afterwards.
I am such a romantic.
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