Happy birthday, dear Carnivore!

This weekend we celebrated the Carnivore's birthday with plenty of food.  The LOs and I made him a chocolate cake with chocolate frosting per his request and were sure to slather that frosting on nice and thick.

Definitely not from scratch but made with LOTS of love

We also treated him to a fabulous dinner at Ozzie's, one of the Great American Restaurants, in Fairfax Corner. While the Bigger One covered his face and clothes in tomato sauce and the Littler One busied himself dropping the freshly made bread all over the booth, the Carnivore and I savored every bite of our meals.  I chose the Penne Primavera because I'm the family vegetarian and he ordered the Wood Grilled Rib Eye, because, well, he's the Carnivore.   Did I mention we also ordered a side of their Marscapone Polenta, so creamy and decadent?  We skipped dessert because we were excited to dive into his birthday cake at home.

Almost started a fire with all of the candles

I also made him a batch of Overnight Oatmeal, a Family Circle magazine recipe, for breakfast and treated him to healthy and satisfying wraps for lunch (with homemade hummus).  Let's just say that when it comes to the Five Love Languages, I am indubitably an "Acts of Service" kind of gal.  And for me, making a meal is one of the most significant acts of service I could bestow upon another human being (probably related to the way food and love were so closely connected in my family as I was growing up).  I feel like a princess when the Carnivore just makes me a bowl of popcorn; for me, the way to my heart is definitely through food.

(We also ate out at Uncle Julio's with his family on Saturday and attended a barbecue with family friends on Sunday, so the eating was almost non-stop this weekend!)

Anyway, celebrating the Carnivore's birthday triggered a lot of memories we've shared, many with food as the backdrop.  When we first started dating, he made me egg and cheese sandwiches on biscuits for breakfast and we'd devour them while watching It's Academic in his Glover Park apartment.  When he moved up to New York for a couple of years for school, we explored as many restaurants in the Bronx and Manhattan as our budgets would allow.  We were especially fond of Gennaro's on the Upper West Side (I highly recommend their orrechiette with broccoli), where we celebrated major occasions like our engagement and his graduation.  I also remember exploring the North End in Boston with him, how young and thin we were as we scarfed down cannoli with our cappuccinos.

Ah...no Easter was complete without a cannoli run, as I learned from my Nanu

He never had a chance to enjoy a meal with my dad (regrettably since I have no doubt they would have bonded over martinis, my mom's pizza, and my dad's penchant for digging up interesting recipes from Gourmet magazine).  Nor did he ever taste my Great Aunt Rose's meatballs (which I loved pre-vegetarian) or my Big Nana's manicotti (my mouth is watering just thinking of them).  But he's attended enough of my family's celebrations to understand that everyone has tomato sauce and wine running through their veins (even my non-Italian dad did) and that no one leaves anyone's house without a belly filled to capacity and pants adjusted to accomodate.

I've celebrated 10 years of birthdays with the Carnivore, as well as every celebration in between.  We've made family dinners a priority for our Little Ones and while I think they'd prefer to eat and run so they can get back to their play, I hope they'll one day understand we did it out of love.  Every meal we make, whether I prepare it alone or with the Carnivore, is made from love.  Happy birthday, dear Carnivore!  Here's to many more memories together (and of course, lots more food!)