Tell me this: If February 14th is about showing your L-O-V-E, why do people make restaurant reservations so they can eat dinner next to fifteen other couples, all of whom are desperately trying to spend quality time together? Isn’t the whole point to be alone?
Oh, that’s right, I forgot. It’s capitalism. Hallmark’s corporate arrow, striking us from close range before we know how to read. And it works for some people, I guess, but I’ve always been a fan of the homespun Valentine’s dinner. I mean, good romance usually ends at home, right? So why add the gas money?
A suggestion, if all you're used to making for dinner is reservations: Take a cue from good ol’ J.T, king of courtship, and go for passion in a package.
I’m talking oysters, of course. Paired with a great champagne, they’re a classic aphrodisiac, and a fun DIY date project, provided you don’t maim yourself (or each other) getting them open. This year, Taylor Shellfish (you might recognize them from area farmers’ markets) is putting together their oyster lovers’ box again, which comes with oysters from around Puget Sound, an oyster knife, a guide to opening the things (hint: don’t put the knife through your hand), and northwest fish and shellfish guru Jon Rowley’s classic essay, “The Art of Eating an Oyster.”