I never thought that I'll actually to a blog on Valentine's Day as it is the kind of thing that I do not normally celebrate. For one that I think it is just far too commercial and also some very personal reasons! But, with all our rooms being booked out this weekend by young loving couples wanting a special place and meal, I actually got thinking about Love and the Meaning of Love and I think that this poem by Auden is just one of the most beautiful 'thinkings' about love (obviously together with my very favourite writing on love by Kahlil Gibran - http://www.katsandogz.com/onlove.html)O Tell Me The Truth About Love
Some say love's a little boy,
And some say it's a bird,
Some say it makes the world go around,
Some say that's absurd,
And when I asked the man next-door,
Who looked as if he knew,
His wife got very cross indeed,
And said it wouldn't do.
Does it look like a pair of pyjamas,
Or the ham in a temperance hotel?
Does its odour remind one of llamas,
Or has it a comforting smell?
Is it prickly to touch as a hedge is,
Or soft as eiderdown fluff?
Is it sharp or quite smooth at the edges?
O tell me the truth about love.
Our history books refer to it
In cryptic little notes,
It's quite a common topic on
The Transatlantic boats;
I've found the subject mentioned in
Accounts of suicides,
And even seen it scribbled on
The backs of railway guides.
Does it howl like a hungry Alsatian,
Or boom like a military band?
Could one give a first-rate imitation
On a saw or a Steinway Grand?
Is its singing at parties a riot?
Does it only like Classical stuff?
Will it stop when one wants to be quiet?
O tell me the truth about love.
I looked inside the summer-house;
It wasn't over there;
I tried the Thames at Maidenhead,
And Brighton's bracing air.
I don't know what the blackbird sang,
Or what the tulip said;
But it wasn't in the chicken-run,
Or underneath the bed.
Can it pull extraordinary faces?
Is it usually sick on a swing?
Does it spend all its time at the races,
or fiddling with pieces of string?
Has it views of its own about money?
Does it think Patriotism enough?
Are its stories vulgar but funny?
O tell me the truth about love.
When it comes, will it come without warning
Just as I'm picking my nose?
Will it knock on my door in the morning,
Or tread in the bus on my toes?
Will it come like a change in the weather?
Will its greeting be courteous or rough?
Will it alter my life altogether?
O tell me the truth about love.
And some say it's a bird,
Some say it makes the world go around,
Some say that's absurd,
And when I asked the man next-door,
Who looked as if he knew,
His wife got very cross indeed,
And said it wouldn't do.
Does it look like a pair of pyjamas,
Or the ham in a temperance hotel?
Does its odour remind one of llamas,
Or has it a comforting smell?
Is it prickly to touch as a hedge is,
Or soft as eiderdown fluff?
Is it sharp or quite smooth at the edges?
O tell me the truth about love.
Our history books refer to it
In cryptic little notes,
It's quite a common topic on
The Transatlantic boats;
I've found the subject mentioned in
Accounts of suicides,
And even seen it scribbled on
The backs of railway guides.
Does it howl like a hungry Alsatian,
Or boom like a military band?
Could one give a first-rate imitation
On a saw or a Steinway Grand?
Is its singing at parties a riot?
Does it only like Classical stuff?
Will it stop when one wants to be quiet?
O tell me the truth about love.
I looked inside the summer-house;
It wasn't over there;
I tried the Thames at Maidenhead,
And Brighton's bracing air.
I don't know what the blackbird sang,
Or what the tulip said;
But it wasn't in the chicken-run,
Or underneath the bed.
Can it pull extraordinary faces?
Is it usually sick on a swing?
Does it spend all its time at the races,
or fiddling with pieces of string?
Has it views of its own about money?
Does it think Patriotism enough?
Are its stories vulgar but funny?
O tell me the truth about love.
When it comes, will it come without warning
Just as I'm picking my nose?
Will it knock on my door in the morning,
Or tread in the bus on my toes?
Will it come like a change in the weather?
Will its greeting be courteous or rough?
Will it alter my life altogether?
O tell me the truth about love.
WH AudenTable all set with rose petals, red candles etc
And then just to tell you about my table, my meal and spending a nice moment with 5 young couples around our table! 
As some of our guests arrived rather late having had to drive quite far in the snow, those allready here were treated to my 'Cocktail d'Amour'! I snippered Litches in a jug, added the juice, some Crème de Cassis (black current syrup), a touch of Grenadine, and topped it up with sparkling wine. Must say, the 4 couples waiting for the others, made a few jugs of my brew dissapear rather fast.
As I've tried to stay with a kind of red theme, the pre-starter (or soupette as those who know my 'table' by now calls it !) was a 'Bloody Mary' soup served in the little lion head soup bowls. Now I know right now with the snow around us it is not tomato time but if you've had the quantity of tomatoes in your garden as we have in the summer, you cook them up into a sauce and freeze them for the winter months when you long to have a taste of sun on the tongue! I just put my sauce in a pan, heat it through, add a dash of Tabasco, another of Worcester Sauce and then (especially when my mother-in-law is around) a nice splash of Vodka just before serving. Certainly helps loosen up the tongues. Table d'hôte is not always easy as, all of a sudden, you find yourself with 5 couples around your table (sometimes all different nationalities) who does not know each other from a bar of soap. And our role is to be the go-betweeners. Thank heavens 99,9 % of the time it turns out great! And the splash of Vodka certainly serves its purpose!
The starter was just another version of my easy cake recipe in a previous post (this time the salted version). I added shrimps and fresh little onions panfried to the batter with lots of parmesan, baked it for a while and served it with a kind of light creamy sauce! I use yogurt a lot in stead of cream and in this case added some tabasco (again - did anyone mention that I like 'spicy'?) to the yogurt with a bit of crème fraiche, placed a dollop on the plate with the little cake on top! Scatter some peri-peri spice around it and voila!
And for the main course, well, I can never resist these little birds. I do love my quails and this time stuffed them with chicken liver, foie gras and herbs, and after simmering them in white wine with cranberries onion and garlic, grilled them just a teeny tiny bit and served them on al denté tagliatelle.
I made a cranberry and strawberry tea jelly that I served with our wonderful cheese from the Auvergne and we ended the meal with my favourite chocolate and chesnut hearts (i know no red but still a little heart!) spiked with a porcupine quill! A feast of love.
Life is about sharing with loved ones.
Bisous
Lynn
