Mr French and I have a long standing tradition of doing absolutely nothing for Valentine’s Day. IN* his words, “Why would anyone want to go out for a preset menu of foie gras and sea scallops?” Add a coupe of champagne and a red fruit based dessert and that’s exactly what you’ll find on most of the Valentine’s menus in the city.

Yesterday while I was home working, the intercom buzzed. On the security screen I could see a rain soaked young man, beads on water rolling off his motorcycle helmet. “I have a delivery,” he announced, “from Marie Helene de Taillac.” I hadn’t ordered anything, but the name rang a bell. De Taillac? De Taillac!!! MHdT is a jewelry designer, a woman whose work I admire tremendously. I buzzed him in, my brain racing at the possibilities and in a nanosecond I was chiding my Frenchman for his ridicukous generosity, while applauding him at the same time. While I thought it was unnecessary of him to cave to convention and get me an extravagant (MHdT only does extravagant) gift, I was feeling hand clapping happy that he had.

You have never, ever imagined a woman so sad at receiving a hand delivered box of Ladurée macarons. I mean, I was thrilled. What a great marketing campaign, delivering a box of sweets to your sweetest clients. But for a few minutes I had been dreaming in jewel tones. I stood there thrilled and disappointed and feeling like a very silly girl.

Last night over dinner, everyone had a good laugh at the image of me standing there. And I can’t say if I have MHdT to thank, or a little bit of spoiling was coming my way, but this afternoon the intercom buzzed and a rain soaked girl announced, “I have a delivery for Madame French.” I buzzed her in and she arrived at the door with a stunning bouquet of jewel toned blooms.

HAPPY WHATEVER DAY to you!!!