Dinner and romance made for each other

Maybe the fare isn’t the focus.

When it comes to most romantic meals, it’s often as much – if not more – about the setting as it is the food. It’s not necessarily about what was consumed but where – and with whom and what kinds of special touches.

The song that was playing. A treasured trinket, ring and proposal.

Sometimes, a lighted candle at a local fast-food joint makes all the difference.

Here, in honor of Valentine’s Day on Sunday, readers share their most romantic meals.

Burgers by candlelight

My true love, Michael, and I celebrate our Valentine’s Day each year with a very romantic dinner. (I hate the word “meal,” which my husband thinks is hysterical.)

We met while we were both single, more than 20 years ago, but no sparks flew, and we parted ways. We happened to meet again 13 years ago and discovered almost immediately we couldn’t live without each other. We’re truly best friends and have laughed constantly ever since we met for the second time.

We’re both in our 60s now and retired. We have great fun taking road trips and other adventures as often as we can, from camping (which we suck at) and doing Disneyland this past December with family to a quick road trip to Palouse Falls on New Year’s Day.

Our children from previous spouses are grown and on their own. We have seven grandchildren, ages 1 to 20. We have four wonderful crazy dogs and a crabby old cat.

On Valentine’s Day, we head to Dick’s Hamburgers, the drive-in on Third Avenue here in Spokane, for Whammies, fries and chocolate malts.

We bring a candle from home and light it up, hold hands and reminisce about our adventures throughout our 12 years of marriage. We both marvel at how two people who are really quite different from each other can be so blissfully and stupidly happy and in love. Mike still calls me his bride, and we can’t wait to see what kind of trouble we can get into on our next adventure.

Linda Murray-Montague, Spokane

Progressive dinner

In the mid-1960s, gas stations were giving away Tinykins and Disneykins as promotions. These were small plastic replicas of the characters from the Flintstones, Top Cat and his gang, and many Disney movies. I absolutely loved my collection of 40 or more.

In the mid-1990s, I had met my now-husband Randy and told him about my fondness for the toys. During our courtship, he would surprise me with Tinykins in random places like in my food or on my pillow.

One day he took me to a bridge near Gonzaga University and presented me with a ring box from Dodson’s Jewelers. Inside was a small piece of paper with the words “tricked you” and a Captain Hook figurine. The note also read, “My wish for us is that we fight our battles together.” A colleague showed up with fruit and wine.

From the river, he took me to his office at Whitworth University, where he presented me with another box with another Tinykin, Monty, Mickey and Minnie’s nephew, with a note that read, “My wish for us is to raise our young together.” A faculty member showed up with salad.

Our next stop was Pine River Park, where a table was set with linen, candles and crystal. Randy’s dad Walt and his wife, Liviah, were there, too, with a salmon dinner. They even sang a song for us, “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face.”

From the park, we drove to Wayside Cemetery off U.S. Route 395. It was a place we would meet for picnics. Soon, friends arrived with chocolates from Tipton’s Gourmet Chocolates for our dessert.

This time when the jewelry box was presented, there was a Minnie Mouse figurine inside – with a beautiful engagement ring on her tiny legs. The note read, “Every Mickey needs a Minnie.”

He proposed and, of course, I said yes. In May, we will have been married for 18 years.

Maureen Michaelis, Spokane

Riverside picnic

When my husband and I were first dating, during early autumn of 1994, he would pick me up at my job in downtown Spokane and take me somewhere scenic along the Spokane River to eat a picnic lunch he had made.

One of the locations was a bench along a walking path overlooking the Gonzaga University campus.

Lunch was usually a specialty that he began making during college: Alfredo pasta, featuring nested noodles, a can of evaporated milk, half of a stick of butter, diced ham, peas and powdered Parmesan cheese.

For dessert, he brought cheesecake he had made from a box mix (we were in our early 20s, and at the time neither of us paid attention to calories or fat grams).

No one else I had dated had ever made me meals. These picnic lunches beside the Spokane River during early autumn – my favorite time of year – were heady and heavenly.

Six months after our first date, we were engaged. Six months after our engagement, we were married.

Twenty years later, he is still making terrific meals for me (though I now have to eat gluten- and dairy-free) and I love him more than ever.

Julie Riddle, Spokane

Fireside dinner

It was Feb. 11, 2007, the year of our 35th wedding anniversary. My husband was leaving the next morning for two months in the Aleutian Islands, so this was an early Valentine’s Day celebration.

We had dined at our favorite restaurant, the Far Western Tavern, in Guadalupe, California, several times since moving to nearby Santa Maria and had always been seated in the dining room, a very busy and somewhat noisy area. This time, however, we were seated in another room at a private table near the fireplace. It was decorated for Valentine’s Day, and we had the room to ourselves.

I remember thinking how perfect the setting was for our last dinner together before he left. We talked about our children, grandchildren and how, when he returned, he would be coming home to our new house, which we were in the process of buying.

The following morning, I drove him to the airport and kissed him goodbye. It was the last time I would see him. He died 10 days later. He had a heart attack, completely unexpected as he had just passed a maritime physical.

Every Valentine’s Day for the past nine years, I have thought about our last dinner together and how amazing it was that we were seated in the most romantic and private area of the restaurant and how forever grateful I am to have the memory of that evening.

Isn’t it amazing that after all this time, I can close my eyes and remember smells and how the restaurant looked? The memory is such a gift.

Katrina Oliver, Spokane

Moonlit Champagne

For our 35th anniversary, we treated ourselves to a trip to Hawaii. The night of our anniversary, my husband told me he would take me anywhere I wanted to go for dinner.

After looking at hundreds of brochures for restaurants, I decided what I really wanted was a moonlit picnic on the beach. We grabbed a bottle of Champagne and some takeout seafood and settled in on a deserted Waikiki beach.

Music was playing somewhere in the background, and the ocean was lighted by the moon. It was the perfect way to celebrate 35 years of marriage.

Sandee Benda, Rathdrum

Hawaii, revisited

After 28 years of marriage, it’s sometimes hard to come up with a romantic dinner, but somehow we did in February 2014.

During the previous fall and winter, my husband and I lost five family members in the space of five months, including both of our dear moms. We decided we REALLY needed to get away and, for 10 days over Valentine’s Day, headed to Oahu, Hawaii, where we had spent our fifth anniversary.

We went back to the same gourmet restaurant, Michel’s at the Colony Surf, which we had discovered long ago. The food was fabulous and beautifully plated. We had at least four servers catering to our every whim over a languid meal. The evening air was warm and scented with tropical flowers because there aren’t any windows to Michel’s; it’s open to the beach.

Promptly at 9 p.m., fireworks went off over Honolulu.

Afterward, we stopped at a hotel bar and had a drink with some couples who invited us to join them – and had a blast. It had started to rain, and a hotel employee gave us a couple of umbrellas to take with us as we made our way back a couple of blocks to our hotel, the Hale Koa.

We were somewhat damp, but laughed the whole way. A magical and romantic night!

Vicki and Larry Deschaine, Spokane

Chinese takeout

My parents owned a Chinese restaurant. Jim walked in on our very first date, picking me up after my shift. He had never eaten Chinese food.

We got an order to go and ate it at my house with my four sisters and brothers. I usually babysat them seven nights a week while my parents worked at the restaurant, often until 3 in the morning.

That night, Jim told me he loved me and one day we would get married. I smiled. I didn’t really believe him.

Sure enough, he was right.

It was love at first sight. Since then, Jim has offered unconditional love through our life, always there for me – through my mother’s cancer and my dad’s illness and death, and for our whole family.

That Chinese takeout was the best dinner, the beginning of years of love. We’re celebrating our 51st anniversary Feb. 17. Not many people are that blessed in life.

Marie Mayers, Spokane