Deliberacy

Well, it’s a wee bit late for Valentines Day, but I thought this sweet little story about the ups and downs of being a “partner” would be a perfect way to celebrate my (Rebecca G’s) 15th wedding anniversary. Thanks Rebecca K. for sharing your writing and your recipes!!

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Chocolate for Valentine’s

As other couples celebrate their Valentine’s Days and center the food offering around store-bought chocolate, Sara pities their unimaginative commercialism and turns to her own refrigerator with, perhaps, just a hint of a self-righteous twitch to her apron. “Kiss the chef” is embroidered over the bosom of the apron–embroidered by hand in a flowing pattern of green and magenta hues. She pulls out the produce door with one foot, scoops up leafy vegetables and a small collection of other ingredients, and places them solidly on the counter next to a medium-sized red heart-shaped bowl. The bags around the lettuce and spinach crinkle as they settled in place. Sara reaches for her knife and the cutting board.

Sometime during the final steps of the preparing of the vinaigrette, Timothy walks in bearing a fresh bottle of balsamic and a hot loaf of French bread from the bakery next door. He grins at the apron, kisses her obediently on the mouth, and his smile only wilts a little as he takes in the magnificence of greens topped with a scattering of almonds, all safely cradled in the red heart-shaped bowl.

It is the wilting that perks her ire. “What?” Her tone, perhaps, is sharper than she’d intended.

“I’d thought with Valentine’s Day–maybe we’d have some food with red involved. Maybe some steak.” He shrugs, grins good-naturedly, and pours balsamic and olive oil into dipping bowls. The bread is sliced and placed in a napkin-lined basket.

And soon enough the two of them sit together by candlelight, enjoying the romance of being poor and inventive on Valentine’s.

Sara brings the red heart-shaped bowl to the table with an air of triumph, sets it on the table between them. She readies the tongs.

It is an exquisite salad. Anything made by hand is a good love token of course, and Sara was sure the overall artistry of the blend of greens, the subtle positioning of the cherry tomatoes, and the sweet scent of the homemade dressing will be favorably received.

However, when she places the bowl before him she catches something in his look.

That look. Again. Just a little wilted, but still the mouth is grinning gamely.

She knows him too well by now. He is trying to enjoy this for her.

She scowls past the red heart-shaped bowl at him as he picks up the fork, takes the first tentative bite.

“Honey, this dressing is delicious.”

“What?”

“What do you mean what? The dressing is good.” He pats his belly. “And I can’t wait to see what we’re having for the main course.”

She grins in what she hopes is a chipper manner. “Honey, this is the main course. It’s an entrée salad.”

“An entrée salad.” Timothy’s tone indicates that he hadn’t realized that particular combination of words would ever be applied to something he would be eating.

Sara reaches across the table with her fork and pokes at the greenery in his bowl, reveling scattered amongst the wealth of green a few tender chunks of chicken. “It’s a light dinner,” she explains. “After we’re done we’ll watch a movie and snuggle and eat popcorn.”

Timothy’s face still tries to look polite, but his stomach rumbles audibly. “You know, dear,” he says. “I am six feet tall and one hundred and sixty pounds. I don’t know that a salad is going to tide me over for popcorn and snuggling.”

“But it’s the perfect Valentine’s dinner,” she insists. “Bread and salad. My favorite dinner.” The final words die on her tongue as she realizes what she had done.

She probably could have afforded a steak, the slim cut at least, if she hadn’t spent on the almonds and three kinds of greens and the other assorted ingredients. A salad was light but a good one wasn’t cheap.

She glances at the counter where the now-opened bottle of balsamic stands accusingly next to half a loaf of French bread. Timothy doesn’t even like balsamic.

She sighs but resolves to enjoy her salad as Timothy goes to the fridge, pulls out leftover sloppy joe meat mix and makes up three heaping sandwiches with the remains of the French bread. It makes an awkward picture somehow, the tall boy with his badly made meat sandwiches, the candles, her best tablecloth, her salad.

“It’s a good salad,” she insists.

“It is a good salad,” he agrees. “I finished mine in about two minutes.” And he launches into his second sandwich. He eventually polishes off all three. But she misses the symmetry of eating the same dish as her lover on Valentine’s Day. She wishes they’d planned in advance a dish that could satisfy them both.

Later, once the popcorn has been polished off and the movie is about halfway over Sara goes again to the kitchen. The red, heart-shaped bowl sits on the counter, a little greasy now from the vinaigrette. The remaining salad rests in a Tupperware in the fridge. Sara washes out the bowl, wipes it dry, and with a sigh pulls from the fridge a block of chocolate.

“What are you doing in there honey?” calls Timothy from the next room.

“Just making a little surprise for us,” says Sara, emphasizing the last word. She melts the chocolate, pours it into the bowl, and turns again to the fridge.

When she’d been in the produce section in search of the perfect salad, she had also purchased bright red strawberries.

“Oh honey!” Timothy’s eyes light up when she carries into the living room a doily-lined cookie sheet supporting two bowls: the red, heart-shaped bowl now containing melted chocolate and a white bowl holding sliced strawberries. She wears, once again, her “Kiss the Cook” apron.

“How would you like a little fondue?” she asks.

His broad grin is spontaneous, and Sara feels a wry happiness sweep her. Turns out he is thrilled with chocolate for Valentine’s Day. And they are enjoying it together. On her terms.

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Entrée Salad

For the vinaigrette:
Blend:
1/4 cup balsamic vinegar
1/2 cup olive oil
1 Tbs red wine vinegar
minced garlic or shallots to taste

For the salad:
head iceburg lettuce
1 bunch romaine
1 handful fresh spinach

Rinse greens carefully, pat dry with paper towels. Tear into bite-sized pieces, toss in bowl. This is your base. Here are the toppings:

1 cup cooked, diced chicken breasts
1 tomato, sliced, or four cherry tomatoes, halved
1 small can sliced olives, drained
1/2 red onion, sliced
1 can mandarin oranges, drained
1/2 box croutons
1 (4 oz.) bag almonds or cashews
Parmesan or Romano cheese to taste

Toss all toppings but croutons and nuts. Add to salad base and toss lightly.

Add croutons and nuts immediately before serving. Top with vinaigrette or dressing of your choice.

Sloppy Joes

1 lb. lean hamburger or turkey burger
1 (16 oz.) can Manwich
Garlic powder to taste
Hamburger buns

Brown meat, add Manwich. Add garlic powder to taste. Simmer for ten minutes. Serve on hamburger buns

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