A Simple Valentine’s Dinner at Home

Valentine’s in our house has taken many forms over the years. There were seasons when it was just my husband and me — romance and surf and turf — and seasons when life grew fuller and the shape of the evening shifted with it.

We love being together as a family, and we also value time alone as a couple — just not necessarily on Valentine’s Day itself. The day can feel busy, expensive, and overblown for a celebration of love, especially falling midweek. Over time, Valentine’s became less about the date and more about using it as an excuse for good food and good company, sometimes as a family, sometimes with close friends.

Last year, the night centered around soup.

February was cold, the days were short, and by evening something warm and grounding felt right. I made a French onion–inspired soup with garlic and thyme — slow cooked, savory, and comforting. It felt romantic in a quiet, unfussy way and set the tone for the entire meal. Soup anchored the night and made everything else feel easy.

Alongside it, I put together a small grazing board to share. Fruit, bread, something creamy, a little chocolate — flexible and meant to be eaten, not styled. Paired with the soup, it was more than enough and kept everyone lingering at the table longer than usual.

Tanghulu, Kept Simple (and Why It Matters)

For something sweet, I made tanghulu-inspired strawberries. Tanghulu is a traditional Chinese candied fruit made with just sugar, water, and fruit. The method is simple but specific: equal parts sugar and water cooked on the stove until the syrup reaches the hard-crack stage — about 300°F.

That temperature matters. It’s what creates the clean, glassy shell that snaps when you bite into it.

I first made tanghulu a couple of years ago after seeing it online, and when my daughter later came across a microwave version, she hoped it would be the same — but the results were disappointing. Microwave shortcuts often never reach the correct temperature, which leaves the coating sticky or soft instead of crisp. The stovetop version takes a little attention, but it’s far more consistent and gives you the texture that makes tanghulu special.

Once the syrup is ready, the strawberries are dipped quickly, set on parchment, and eaten the same day while the shell is still crisp. They’re intensely sweet and meant to be enjoyed slowly — one or two pieces is plenty.

Conversation hearts made an appearance too, because they’re part of the season. With so much candy already circulating, that felt like enough. The night wasn’t sugar-free by any means, just thoughtful. Most of the sweetness came from fruit or things made at home, balanced by a warm, filling meal.

That was it. Soup, a shared board, one intentional sweet, and everyone gathered in the same place. Nothing forced. Nothing performative. Just a simple Valentine’s dinner at home — shaped by the season we were in and exactly what we needed.