"It’s Valentine’s tomorrow – lets have a carb fest."
Now, this kind of remark may or may not do it for you, but you have to bear in mind that I have been making poignantly yearning references to the bread and butter pudding that we made at the end of last year. Man of the Moment that he is, next minute he forgot all about the carb fest and said we should go on a spree at the “aphrodisiac food section” (?) of Sainsbury’s.
Somewhere in a box in the loft are a couple of menus from a restaurant in Camden Lock on Valentine’s day in 1985. There were asparagus, of that I am certain, and I think the ice cream was garnished with passion fruit sauce and a spring onion, but I can’t remember what else we had. I do remember, though, that on this night, probably over the ice cream and spring onion course, he proposed to me. On this night also, Daughter of Signs was conceived.
It's not all about the food, obviously. I am not forgetting about the carb fest idea though. Tomorrow I am going to be making these for breakfast
We will be having them with jam and cream, and then we will be walking on the forest, me remembering lines from the e.e. cummings poetry we read to each other at the wedding, eight years after the Valentine proposal, (our children came dressed in elephant suits).
"Girlboys may nothing more than boygirls need"
Happy V day.
(I know this is the second time in a week that I have banged on about scones - they seem to have become something of a motif.)