Feast, My Valentine, Feast!

Oh my, Valentine’s day is upon us.  Hurry!  Buy a dozen roses (wait, maybe two dozen —but what if someone else gets their sweetheart three dozen?), the big heart-shaped box of chocolates (the one with the map so you can find the treasured pieces and avoid the land mines), and wait a minute, I’m forgetting something…

Oh yes, something that ties it altogether, expresses your undying love, and makes your significant other feel truly unique and special—a greeting card.  Luckily, an entire aisle of every store is devoted to the outsourcing of human sentiment, conveniently indexed by relationship, occasion, and emotion —i.e. person who sits next to me on bus; Groundhog Day; humorous-befuddlement.

Don’t they just think of everyone.  I wonder what the greeting card company thinks I should say to my wife this year?  Can you imagine living in a time where one put quill (whatever that was) to paper (whatever that was) and wrote a letter (whatever that was) or a poem (whatever that was)?  Crazy stuff, my friend.

Of course, it’s the thought that counts —apparently, even if that thought is someone else’s.

Today, it’s all a formula:  this thing + that thing + one more thing = something my sweetheart can post about.  And if the formula works for you, make haste and purchase the required things —certainly, do not give the slightest pause for the wild musings of a philosophical, feast-making, Boar (early bird gets the best sentiment!).

On the other hand, if you seek something else…something less formulaic…something unique, step this way, my friend.  Our journey is one of story and feast —didn’t see that coming, did you?

Valentine’s Day began, as so many treasured holidays, as a day of feasting.  It roots back to the Roman fertility festival, Lupercalia, (featuring a sacrificed goat and other ritualistic festivities) celebrated annually on the ides of February.  Around 496, Pope Gelasius I recast the pagan festival as a Christian feast day and declared February 14 as St. Valentine’s Day —so, at the heart of the holiday of the heart is a feast!

Embracing the feasting history of Valentine’s Day, I say, “plan a feast for your Valentine!”  Not just any feast but a unique feast inspired by your story featuring courses of celebration, mystery, and romance.

Course I: Celebration

Understanding that Valentine’s Day began as a festival, let’s explore the meaning of festival a bit.  According to the collective wisdom of our time (Wikipedia —move over Thoreau, Emerson, and Plato), a festival is an event staged by a community, centering on and celebrating some unique aspect of that community and its traditions.

Hmm…to translate that into our feast, we need a course staged by us, centering on and celebrating some unique aspect of our Valentine.  Approach this course light-hearted (don’t get too serious yet —it’s a long evening, my friend).  Often little things that are unique about your Valentine work the best.  Perhaps, it could be as simple as celebrating something at which you normally scoff.

Here’s what I mean…

Wife-of-the-Boar is not a fan of peppers —save one, the red bell pepper.  She loves it, hates all others (surely, you jest what about the other bell peppers: yellow, green, orange…. Alas, no middle-ground: one pepper is in, and all others are out).  As a convivial feast-maker, I cannot accept or explain such limitations (bland dish, fiery debate). But Valentine’s Day is not about acceptance or explanations.  Celebration is the order of the day.  So I choose to celebrate my Valentine through a pepper —the only pepper for her.  Roasted red bell pepper soup brings the pepper into focus and celebrates something that is uniquely her (and the color works nicely for the occasion too).

Course II: Mystery Course

Quite fitting for a holiday celebrating romance, Valentine’s Day is wrapped in mystery.  The mystery revolves around which St. Valentine Pope Gelasius intended to celebrate —there were at least three possibilities, and his posts that day about the event were a bit vague, mostly focusing on where he was at and who was with him.  Rumor has it that he posted more revealing thoughts on a medium that vanished thirty seconds after it was opened.

The most popular legend is that during a time when marriages were outlawed, a priest named St. Valentine secretly performed marriage ceremonies.  According to this legend, he was apprehended, jailed, and executed (sentiments noticeably left out of the greeting card aisle, but makes you wonder if “be my Valentine” was really intended as a positive statement.  I may be able to develop my own line of cards around this notion).  In this way, he stands as a martyr for the power of love and marriage.  Another legend holds that while in jail, St. Valentine fell in love with the jailor’s daughter and before his execution, he wrote her a letter signed “from your Valentine” —pretty convenient last name if you ask me.

I take this a cue to bring an element of mystery into our feast —perhaps we could just purchase the box of chocolates without the map.  Or we could create a course to be revealed only in the special moment of the feast. Unveiling portions of the menu in the days leading up to Valentine’s Day heightens the anticipation but keeping something secret excites the moment.

Some ideas to think about in planning the mystery course: What significant meals have you shared?  What was the first meal you created for her or she created for you?  Perhaps, you could create a version of a dish that your Valentine regularly orders at a restaurant.  Or what if you researched and created a food from her childhood?  Maybe, your Valentine has always wanted to try something and now you can make that possible (you know, like another type of pepper —or maybe not).

This course is seasoned with the powerful spice of surprise.  Focus on the special and mysterious.  Be adventurous and bold.  Your ultimate goal is not to create the best food item, but rather you are writing a love letter to your Valentine through food creations.  Why you chose the creation (the story) is far more important than what it is or how it turns out.  With all the courses, but especially this one, showmanship will help the moment —be ready to tell your Valentine the story of the feast as you present it.

Advanced technique: create a course featuring items and ingredients from different times of your relationship and tie them together with a story or theme.  As an example you could create a course representing the growth of your relationship by including a food item or ingredient from a meaningful meal when your relationship was young and pair it with something you have enjoyed more recently.  Also, don’t forget the power of reuniting your Valentine with a wine or Champagne from your past.

Course III: Romance Course

Valentine’s Day did not become joined with romance until the Fourteenth Century (I simply point out that feasting had been part of the Valentine scene for a thousand years at that point, lending credence to my long-held belief that Valentines should have been printed on chicken wings —in a moment you will know why I chose Chicken).  In 1381 Chaucer composed a poem to celebrate the engagement of Richard II and Anne of Bohemia. Through his poem “The Parliament of Fowls” he linked the royal engagement, the mating season of birds, and St. Valentine’s Day:

For this was on St. Valentine’s Day,
When every fowl cometh there to choose his mate.

I translate this romantic notion into our feast as an indulgent course —maybe involving Chaucer’s fowl.  Focus on the guilty pleasures and indulge.  For the Boar’s Valentine, indulgence brings to mind chocolate and France.  I’m thinking chocolate creme brûlée in a dish for two (pretty suave for a Boar —and note the incorporation of fowl through the eggs in the custard—suave and clever, my friend. Enough to make even Chaucer proud, I’m sure).

If you fear that a feast of celebration, mystery, and romance alone will not suffice because it lacks the permanency of a card, might I suggest creating a written feast invitation that explains the story of your creations.  Perhaps, you could sign it “from your Feast-Making Valentine.”  Now, that sounds post-worthy.

Celebrate, mystify, and indulge, my friend.