Love, Lemons, & Last First Dates
It was the first day of December and I was frantically fussing with a strand of hair that wouldn’t obey while trying to tuck my toes into a pair of very uncomfortable, but its-okay-because-they’re-stunning, shoes. The kind of shoes that are lacking in most common sense, but hopefully the perfect first steps into something new. As I looked at the time I settled on a rash justification that a rogue strand of hair was perfectly imperfect. Then I excitedly dashed outside, straight into several inches of bitterly cold white snowfall, nearly burying my shoes with every step. Despite a horrible choice of shoes in an early December snow, I was having one of those very human moments. Driven by a silly hopeful heartbeat that somehow kept my toes from ever feeling chilly. Even better, I wasn’t alone.
As I clumsily walked through inches of snow in inappropriate shoes, I looked up to see the awkwardly shy boy I remembered from high school had grown into a handsome man, and was walking toward me in a short sleeved, cotton, orange plaid shirt. I couldn’t help but smile. I had mentioned once, in a very early messaging conversation, how much I liked the color orange. It’s one of those seemingly meaningless little things that I never expected anyone would remember. Maybe that’s one of the wonderful things about dating in your late thirties, we’ve all picked up a thing or two. Or, maybe, that’s just one of the many genuine little things about Mr. Amazing that stole my heart from the very first date. Someone willing to hunt down a shirt in an uncommon color and bear the December chill with you, might just be the someone.
He took me to this little log cabin on the edge of a giant lake, turned into a cozy little restaurant. I don’t think he had any idea at the time, but brunch has always been my favorite meal. As I warmed up and looked through the menu, sitting across from a man I hadn’t seen in many years, my eyes landed on lemon poppy seed waffles. Warm, comforting, gently sweet, bright, and a little zesty. In that moment, if great first dates were a meal, that would be it. Twelve years later, a pair of shoes on a shelf and an orange shirt I wash with extra care, I still remember exactly how they tasted but nothing about the chill.
Like Mr. Amazing, lemons and poppy seeds will always warm my heart in a way nothing else could. In fact, I’ve spent many years sneaking a sprinkle of zest or a squeeze of juice into everything possible, sweet or savory, if only for the memory. There’s just something about love and good food that will always bring a smile.
I realize it’s a bit early for citrus season, and they’re not yet at their prime. However, the last week of August is the anniversary of Mr. Amazing and I connecting after many years in separate journeys. It was the beginning of the greatest love of my life. Full of many amazing things, including warmth, comfort, sweetness, and a little zest. I can’t think of a better way to tell him how happy he has made me, than to put it into baking goodness. And share a little more of us with all of you.
As eagerly hopeful as I felt for my last first date, the lemon poppy seed muffin has arrived (eagerly early for the best season) at The Bakery at 1871.
