First dates; how romantic is too romantic?
It had been mere days after spending time with Jack in Laguna Beach that I had invited him over to my house for dinner. I was living in Long Beach, about 20 miles south of Los Angeles proper, and he was coming from school, about ten miles north of LA – in short, he was making a big commitment by coming down to visit me. I was kind of nervous. I wanted to be all cute and make him dinner – but what to make!? Was he picky? I wanted to whip up something impressive.
I had just gotten back from the gym when he arrived. He had just worked out as well and of course he looked f-cking stunning. He had been at school all day, in college for something very left-brained that I usually couldn’t have cared less about, but because it was him, I found myself intrigued and actually interested in things that would have normally made me want to gouge my eyes out.
I opened the refrigerator and told him what was on the menu. I had been dying to try this mashed cauliflower recipe that basically tasted like mashed potatoes without the overload of carbs, but when I pulled out the head of cauliflower, Jack went wide-eyed and pursed his lips. He wasn’t a fan. I offered him some pineapple that I had just sliced up as an hors d’oeuvre, but he shook his head in disgust. My fears were correct: he was picky.
Thankfully I had some asparagus in lieu of the cauliflower, a sensible summer salad and my secret chicken recipe in my back pocket. As we chatted, added each other on social media, and I cooked, I realized how relationships are like a three-course meal, of which Jack and I were in the appetizer phase.
First, you have the hors d’oeuvres, dishes that are usually very pretty, appealing, and give you ever the slightest hint as to what your relationship, or the main course, might be like. Meant to tease, discover, but leave you wanting more.
Second, there’s the entree. This is the part of a relationship that lasts the longest. It’s usually the biggest, CLICK HERE TO READ MORE
