Why is it considered so romantic to go out to a restaurant, sit in public across the table from each other and eat food someone else has cooked while a few dozen strangers keep a close eye on you? Surely this must be a contributing factor to the dismal state of “relationships” in our culture, which primarily encourage a facade of formality and romance about two millimeters deep.
After spending 20 years dutifully preparing gourmet meals and sitting down to eat them at a beautiful table that has since been auctioned off to the highest bidder, I have found a man who is teaching me that TRUE romance is about being completely yourself with the person you love. So now my romantic evenings, if they include a shared meal, are more often than not spent sitting on the kitchen counter smoking a joint, drinking red wine, and being fed mouthfuls of whatever bomb AF dinner Bone is scrambling up for himself post-workout….Bean chili with scrambled eggs and fresh avocado never tasted so good! Follow that up with being fed one of my cookies or his mom’s latest confection while cuddling up in front of a hockey game on my big ass TV…. I wouldn’t trade it for a lifetime of five star meals.
So yeah, you can have your romantic restaurants and your linen tablecloths…I’m gonna stick with a guy who likes to do it on the kitchen counter.