Valentine's Day with The One Who Loves Me: Berries and Cream

Happy Valentine's Day, dear reader!

We have shared three V-Days. They were some very poignant times, but ooh boy am I glad to have fallen down, brushed off, and carried on. For me, Valentine's Day marks the end of a Bermuda triangle of romantic expectations starting with Thanksgiving, moving into Xmas/Chanukah, hitting it's peak on New Years, and resolved by Valentine's Day. A pentagon of prospects, possibilities, and (let's face it) presumption.

I know you know what I'm talking about.

If you're in any sort of relationship, and can navigate around these cairns unscathed, then tell me how it's done. I have a tendency to drive the car straight into the lamp post, and can file these wrecks under "learning experiences". There was the "I love you now it's over" break-up with JChef in 2006, the admission of my Valentine's Day card and chocolate pudding habit in 2007, and the final "ain't that horse dead yet?" JChef break up of 2008. At least there's a link to a really awesome NPR break-up piece at the bottom, and foreshadowing of good things to come with Andrew, AKA Kidalicious, who recently bowed out of the race and resumed friend status. Kid, we were all rooting for you; why'd you forfeit the game?

Someday I'd like to make a relationship board game and when I do, these holidays will have the significance of Boardwalk and Park Place stacked with 5 hotels. It would be combined with the prophecy of a Magic-8 ball letting you know if it really was a good decision to have sex that soon...and a telling physical component like Twister (after you've been dating for a year, and doesn't ask you to his brother's wedding...do you still think he wants a relationship? Yes? Then stand on your right food, put your left foot behind your head, close your eyes and hop across the room while holding a martini. If you can do it without spilling, stay in the relationship, dufus).

Hell, people. What doesn't kill you make you stronger. But don't mistake my sarcasm for bitterness: I still believe. Yes we can. It's all different now.

Which is precisely why this year, I had a little Valentine's week hang with that person who will always love me, deeper and more unconditionally than any other. That's right people, I did a Valentine's love-in with momma. She visited for a week of winter love, the kind where you snuggle up on the couch, watch movies, and wonder exactly when the senility will start (see, moms let you make those kinds of jokes and *still* get you a birthday present).

And because I was feeling all romantic for the coming V-Day, I made special meals for mom where she could dine on aphrodisiacs like mussels and artichokes, and then call my Dad and coo sweet things to him. Awww...

But the real treat of the weekend was the classic Valentine's indulgence: Strawberries and Whipped Cream. That's right people, I pulled out all my kitchen stops to seduce my mother. Because after champagne, and a full meal, why shove down another 750 calories of chocolate when you can enjoy a nice fruit dessert?

Because everyone's looking for those stemmed strawberries (the fruit equivalent of a long stemmed rose), you can find good grocery store value. And thanks to our global economy, they're sweet as all get-out, red to the core; a perfect companion to hand-beaten whipped cream. For the cream, select some top quality organic heavy or whipping cream, pick up your whisk and go to town. But pass on the sugar. By doing so, you get to enjoy the berries natural sweetness unencumbered by cloying sugar. This actually makes the strawberries taste sweeter.

Let's carry that metaphor to the end: On Valentine's Day, don't cover up the natural sweetness with an overly sweet companion (mediocre $150 prix fixe dinner, anyone?). Step aside, look for the all-natural organic love, and enjoy it's deliciousness.