By Valentine's Day. Our third as a married couple, our second as parents. James came home on Wednesday with three roses — one for me, one for Hana, one "for the kitchen, because the kitchen deserves flowers." He put the kitchen rose in a small vase on the Carrara marble counter. The rose is yellow. The marble is white. The combination is beautiful. The kitchen has flowers. The kitchen has a man who brings it flowers. I married well.
We did not go out. We have not gone out for Valentine's Day since before Hana, and we may never go out again, and this is fine, because out is where restaurants are and home is where the Bluestar is and the Bluestar wins every competition. I made a Korean-Taiwanese fusion dinner: my kimchi jjigae alongside James's three-cup chicken. Two cuisines, two pots, one table. Hana ate rice and bits of soft chicken and declared both dishes acceptable via the sweet potato sound (which she now applies to all foods she approves of, not just sweet potato).
Jisoo sent a Valentine's card — handmade, a watercolor of the Haeundae beach. She wrote inside: "For Dahee and James. Love is the kitchen you built. Love is the table you set. Love is the food you serve to people you chose and people who chose you. Happy Valentine's Day." She is becoming a poet. Or she has always been a poet. The letters have gotten more beautiful over the years, as her comfort with me has deepened, as the formality has dissolved, as the mother-daughter relationship has settled into something that is no longer dramatic or wounded but simply real. She writes to me the way a mother writes to a daughter: with love and weather reports and opinions about my cooking and the assumption that I want to hear all of it. I do. I want all of it.
Dr. Yoon — I have not written about her in weeks. She is still there. Monday mornings. The sessions are different now — less crisis, more maintenance. She asked me on Monday, "What are you working on?" I said, "Being present. Not planning so far ahead that I miss the now." She said, "How is that going?" I said, "I made Valentine's dinner and I was there for every bite." She said, "That's excellent." She said, "Stephanie. You have come very far." I said, "I know." She said, "Do you?" I thought about it. I do. I have come very far. From the silent condo to this kitchen. From the empty refrigerator to the onggi pots. From the girl who didn't know where she came from to the woman who knows exactly where she is. I have come very far. And there is further to go. There is always further to go. But the going is good and the kitchen is warm and the stew is on the stove and I am here. I am here.
The recipe this week is a Valentine's Day Korean-Taiwanese fusion: kimchi jjigae and three-cup chicken, made together, served together, eaten together. The jjigae is mine. The chicken is James's. The table holds both. The table holds us. Happy Valentine's Day. Cook for the people you love. Cook with the people you love. Let the kitchen hold everything. It always does.
We ended the night with something small and sweet — because the dinner had been so full, so complete, that dessert only needed to whisper. A swirled fudge felt right: two flavors folded together into one thing, which is exactly what our table looked like that night, James’s chicken and my jjigae side by side, two pots, one life. The black cherry cuts through the richness the way a good Valentine’s Day should — a little tart, a little dramatic, but ultimately warm. Hana approved via the sweet potato sound. That was enough.
Black Cherry Swirl Fudge
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 10 min | Total Time: 25 min + 2 hrs chilling | Servings: 24 pieces
Ingredients
- 3 cups semi-sweet chocolate chips
- 1 can (14 oz) sweetened condensed milk, divided
- 1/4 cup unsalted butter, cut into pieces
- 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
- 1/2 cup white chocolate chips
- 1/3 cup black cherry preserves or jam
- 1/4 teaspoon almond extract
- Pinch of salt
Instructions
- Prepare the pan. Line an 8x8-inch baking pan with parchment paper, leaving overhang on two sides for easy lifting. Lightly butter the parchment.
- Make the chocolate base. In a medium saucepan over low heat, combine the semi-sweet chocolate chips, 1 cup of the sweetened condensed milk, butter, and a pinch of salt. Stir constantly until fully melted and smooth, about 5–7 minutes. Remove from heat and stir in vanilla extract.
- Make the cherry layer. In a small saucepan over low heat, combine the white chocolate chips with the remaining sweetened condensed milk. Stir until melted and smooth, about 3–4 minutes. Remove from heat and stir in the black cherry preserves and almond extract. The mixture will turn a deep rose-red.
- Layer and swirl. Pour the chocolate base into the prepared pan and spread evenly. Drop spoonfuls of the cherry mixture over the top. Using a butter knife or skewer, drag gently back and forth through both layers in a figure-eight pattern to create a swirl. Do not over-swirl — you want distinct ribbons of cherry running through the chocolate.
- Chill. Refrigerate uncovered for at least 2 hours, or until firmly set.
- Cut and serve. Lift the fudge out of the pan using the parchment overhang. Place on a cutting board and cut into 24 squares with a sharp knife, wiping the blade clean between cuts for neat edges. Serve chilled or at cool room temperature.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 185 | Protein: 2g | Fat: 9g | Carbs: 26g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 35mg