In 30 years of marriage, my wife and I have enjoyed dates in some pretty cool places. Early in our time together, we picnicked while watching the sun set over the Grand Canyon. For our 25th anniversary, we indulged in an elegant tea service at Claridge’s, London’s famous five-star hotel. In a scene Hollywood could have written, we once strolled along the Seine hand-in-hand on an idyllic afternoon in Paris.
I’ll always treasure those moments in iconic destinations, but some of our most memorable dates have been at home. Like the time we re-created high tea on our patio or took a vicarious Scandinavian odyssey from our living room. That’s something I think about each Valentine’s Day, when many couples feel obligated to splurge on a visit to a fancy restaurant, or even a cushy resort. Often, though, life nudges us to stay put when Feb. 14 rolls around.
During the pandemic lockdowns, many of us learned the perils and promise of sharing special occasions within our own humble walls. I’ve discovered that a date at home doesn’t have to be a lesser alternative.
When the pandemic kept us at home for our anniversary, I decided to salute our earlier trip to England by serving high tea on our patio. A long-forgotten teapot on a kitchen shelf worked well for our table setting, and I heightened the occasion by making dainty cucumber sandwiches with a recipe I’d found online. Some inexpensive scones from a nearby bakery filled out the menu, and I dressed our outdoor café table with a lovely floral tablecloth we hadn’t used in years. Though it cost almost nothing, the tableau transported us during a challenging time.
We make a point of putting away our phones and laptops for such occasions, and when our children were part of our at-home date nights, we made a virtue of necessity by including them in some of the fun. Over a pan of brownies with us one Valentine’s Day, our daughter and son enjoyed a few stories about how their parents met and fell in love. We’d like to think that our children, now grown, benefited by seeing adults model mutual affection. When we dated at home, my wife and I set aside some just-us time for after the young ones had gone to bed. Even if it was just for a few minutes, that time together was a sustaining gift.
Now that my wife and I are empty nesters, dates at home remain a welcome complement to our evenings on the town. We’d like to visit Scandinavia one day, so I decided to honor our dream with a Scandinavia night at home. After doing some research online, I whipped up the fixings for smörgås, an open-faced sandwich that’s popular in Sweden. From a nearby public library, I got a stack of Scandinavian travel books that we flipped through over dinner, brainstorming our fantasy itinerary. We finished the date by screening “A Man Called Ove,” the sweet Swedish film about a curmudgeonly widower who learns to find happiness. My theme dates can be corny, I’ll admit, but being open-hearted and vulnerable is the lifeblood of true romance.
These days, our tradition of at-home date nights has been embraced by the next generation. When social distancing restrictions kept our daughter and her new husband home one New Year’s Eve, they spent the evening with a jigsaw puzzle snagged at a discount from the corner drugstore. Though it wasn’t how they’d planned to ring in the New Year, their quiet hours of collaboration proved magical, and puzzle-making is now often a part of their weekend routine.
The trick is to find something you can enjoy together. For my wife and me, it’s cooking. One recipe we like for Valentine’s Day is for chocolate chess pie, which can usually be whipped up from stuff we already have in the pantry. We’ve gotten pretty good at the delicate minuet around the kitchen as two chefs work in the same space, and after it’s done, we have the satisfaction of savoring what we’ve made together.
I can’t think of a better plan for Valentine’s Day. And when it’s time to go home, we’re already there.
