Date Night In: A Flemish Feast

Gabe and I had tried being friends for quite a while before we jumped into dating. Everyone around us knew we were only kidding ourselves, but we insisted that we were “just good friends.” –Date Night In, p. 248

The story of how Roy and I came to be, our story, is a long sordid tale that is wonderful and romantic to us, and I will spare you most of the gory details. But you should know that it is steeped in friendship. We were friends for a year and a half before we began dating. For much of that time we couldn’t be anything more than friends, due to some of the long sordidness. And that was fine. It was great, actually. Eventually people started to pester us, in their gentle ways, about the fact that we weren’t together. (We still maintain that our paternal sets of grandparents conspired to bring the whole thing about.) Eventually, we did. But it was long distance and it wasn’t easy, ever. The friendship kept us going when the romance was impossible.

So this date night, one themed around friendship, was appealing. Let’s celebrate the fact that we were from the start, and happiest when we are friends.

Menu:

Bitter Greens with Mustard Vinaigrette

Belgian Frites

Flemish Beef Stew

Yeasted Belgian Waffles with Ice Cream and Hot Fudge

The salad was simple and colorful, which was needed, because the rest of the meal was not. The four ingredient dressing was lovely—could definitely become a staple in my fridge for all sorts of salads. We spent all day yesterday outside, running and tramping around in the warm weather. We were yearning for fresh food and this salad was needed.

I am ready for another bowl of that right now.

Then we fried fries. Oy with the deep frying already. I had to do it again for these fries. Twice, actually. The good news is I’m getting better at it. The bad news is that is still makes me queasy and it’s always a messy ordeal. They turned out pretty good—still soggier than I’d like. The malt vinegar/mayo dip was spectacular though. Move over ketchup.

The vinegar was from London...so was the syrup we used in the hot fudge. I guess Belgium and Britain share culinary secrets. (What DO you call a native Belgiumite? A Flem? A Belg? These are not great options.)

The Flemish beef stew was exciting. We always love any excuse to buy a decent cut of meat, although I get nervous about not screwing up that decent cut of meat. $$$. It tasted quite good but looked disgusting. Seriously. Pretty pictures, these are not. I think next time I’ll make this in the crockpot—things were sticking to the Dutch oven and the meat was a bit overdone. It was good, but I think I semi-screwed up the decent cut of meat. :(

Seriously ugly hunks of meat. It's dishes like this that inspired "garnish."

As Roy said, “Well, nothing’s been bad, but I’m guessing the waffles are going to save this Date Night In.”

Pretty golden-brown.

They did. The fudge was my favorite thing to make, and taste. Come over and try some—we have lots of leftovers! The waffles were light and flavorful. But really they were just a vehicle for hot fudge and ice cream. I’d be OK with just the ice cream and fudge—save the waffles for breakfast. (We had leftovers this morning and I enjoyed them much more.)

This meal made me feel heavy and sick to my stomach. A lot of oil, heavy meat, and carbs. We aren’t used to that. The flavors were pretty good, but after such a miraculous day of flitting around outdoors it wasn’t worth going to bed feeling like there was a boulder in my stomach.

…

Our marriage shines brightest when we are laughing and hanging out together. This year we’ve cut back a bit on the number of jobs and musical commitments and it has been a beautiful season of renewal for our friendship. What used to be a day or few hours snatched here and there, and largely spent re-remembering who the other person was, can now be days, living life with our little family and sharing the good and the bad in real time. I’ve seen viral articles flash across Facebook claiming, “My Husband Isn’t My Best Friend and Our Marriage Is Better For It” and I know that there’s more to that claim than the headline. But, guess what? My husband really is my best friend. And I’m OK with that world!

Someday it will be just the two of us again. The kids will be grown and will eventually move out of the house. What will be left is us and our friendship. It’s the constant in our marriage that takes time and energy to cultivate. It’s not sustainable on its own and will not wait for us to find it. Without nourishing it, it deteriorates and leaves little behind…I want my best friend alongside me no matter where I am. With him, I am a better person; without him, there’s something missing.” –DNI, p. 248