v-day

I do one meal a week. One good meal, that is. Yesterday was it. Chicken Korma. Not that canned crap. Proper Indian cuisine. Where you add the saffron and cardamom and do it yourself. I forgot today was Valentines Day. And that I’ll have to do it again. I’m thinking something-salmon.

“I want nothing,” he tells me. He’s low-carbing so chocolate is out of the question. “It’s a girl’s day, after all.”

Yeah, he may be right, but remember that time I went to Harvey Nics and stocked up on girly stuff for this girl’s day and brought it all home with nothing for you and you looked sad?

He’s impossible to buy for. He’s only ever worn one item of clothing I’ve ever got him. A blue pajama top. He has a Tag Heuer and two pair of overpriced Italian loafers sitting in my wardrobe. And countless gadgets. Full to overflowing. All past Valentine gifts. He does like art. But I can’t afford it. Not without dipping into his cash and that’s not really fair. Is it?

Anyway, I’ve been watching Julia Child since I was three. I should be able to pull something out of my hat.

What about you ladies? What do you do for the one you call darling? I have eight hours to get it right.