I've never been much of a cook. In my teens and early 20s, I subsisted primarily off of baked potatoes, mac and cheese and tomato soup. These days, left to my own devices, I'm just as likely to have a bowl of cereal for dinner as I am a salad or a piece of fish.
While I can adequately feed myself, cooking for someone else has always been a bit unnerving. So it must have been some wild, romantic notion that inspired me to cook Valentine's Day dinner for my new boyfriend.
It didn't take long for me to plan out the menu: seared ahi tuna, asparagus and wasabi mashed potatoes. My repertoire is fairly limited, and mostly gleaned from a handful of former boyfriends who were far more skilled at the culinary arts.
As I prepared the meal, I thought about these men from my past. I thought of the editor who was sometimes impatient with me but never with his soy sauce marinade.
I thought of the firefighter who taught me the secret of baked asparagus -- and who I thought I might marry -- until he cheated on me.