Dinner Rolls

Valentine’s Day has come and gone, and if you survived the gauntlet of candy choices, bombardment of diamond guilt inducing commercials and mediocre restaurants packed like sardines, your relationship is stronger. Congratulations! You’ve climbed a rung on the evolutionary ladder of love. Few things challenge a couple more than an artificial holiday designed to commercialize affection shoved ceremoniously down your throat. Few things, indeed. But, there are a few.

Let’s start with rolls. Yes, after years in a committed relationship, small pleasures become permanent. I know my wife and I are not alone in occasionally picking our dinner destination based on exceptional quality of the pre-dinner rolls being served. On a recent date to such a bastion of breadly delight, we encountered a relationship hardship, a dilemma of epic proportion. Three rolls in the basket. Three. There are two of us, mind you. It seems life has come to an impasse at that moment. Vows are examined, the use of cutlery considered in uncivilized ways and the meaning of sacrifice becomes all too clear as your stomach rumbles from desire. Thou shalt not covet thy wife’s roll.

Then we have the dreaded question of dinner itself. Quite the relationship challenge in and of itself. Nothing sparks irritated silence or a cascade of frustrated conversation like the simple question, “Where do you want to go eat?” Which is followed by, “I don’t care.” Followed by, “I don’t care, either,” and a sigh. Followed by, “I don’t care, I really don’t,” with a frown. Leading to a frustrated, “Just pick someplace.” And grumpy, “Why do I have to pick? You pick.”

Which all eventually lead to deciding to go to the place with the best rolls, and you know how that turns out.