Valentine's Day. Third one single. I bought myself flowers — tulips, yellow, because they looked like spring and I needed spring. I put them on the kitchen table and they glowed in the winter light and I thought: I am courting myself. I am the person bringing me flowers. And that is fine. That is more than fine. That is a woman who has learned that she is enough without a plus-one.
Mason made me a Valentine: a drawing of a molecule (he's been watching science videos) with "I love you to the atomic level, Mom" written underneath. I will be framing this. I will be framing this and hanging it on the wall and telling people about it until I die, because my seven-year-old son just expressed love using chemistry and this is the proudest moment of my parenting career.
Lily's Valentine: a horse made of construction paper and approximately forty-seven glitter stickers. Under the horse: "I LUV U MAMA." She's reading and writing now, simple things, and seeing her handwriting — wobbly, huge, fierce — is like seeing her personality translated into letters. The letters are large because Lily is large, in spirit if not in stature.
Jen and Dave are official. She brought him to book club this month (we allow guests for the February meeting, which we call "Galentine's" because we are that kind of book club). Dave is quiet, kind, laughs at Jen's jokes, and brings homemade brownies. I like him. More importantly, Jen likes him, and Jen deserves someone who brings brownies.
I made chocolate-dipped strawberries. Simple, Valentine's-appropriate, consumed by the children in under ten minutes while I stood at the counter and ate one slowly, tasting the chocolate and the berry and the sweetness of a February evening in a warm house with flowers on the table and love letters from my children on the refrigerator and a life that is, by any measure, good.
The chocolate-dipped strawberries were a hit — gone in minutes, as promised — but I’ve been thinking about what I’d make next February, something I could set out on the table next to my yellow tulips and let the kids discover like a little treasure. These crunchy candy clusters are exactly that: quick enough for a weeknight, festive enough for a holiday, and the kind of thing you can eat slowly at the counter while the house is warm and the love notes are still on the refrigerator.
Crunchy Candy Clusters
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 5 minutes | Total Time: 45 minutes (includes chilling) | Servings: 24 clusters
Ingredients
- 2 cups milk chocolate chips
- 1 cup white chocolate chips
- 1 1/2 cups crispy rice cereal
- 1 cup dry roasted peanuts
- 1/2 cup mini pretzels, lightly crushed
- 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
- Pinch of sea salt
- Valentine’s sprinkles or red and pink candy-coated chocolates, optional
Instructions
- Melt the chocolate. In a large microwave-safe bowl, combine the milk chocolate chips and white chocolate chips. Microwave in 30-second intervals, stirring between each, until completely smooth and melted. Stir in vanilla extract.
- Add the crunch. Fold in the crispy rice cereal, peanuts, and crushed pretzels until everything is evenly coated in chocolate.
- Portion the clusters. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Drop heaping tablespoons of the mixture onto the parchment, spacing them about an inch apart.
- Decorate. While the chocolate is still wet, press a few Valentine’s sprinkles or candy-coated chocolates on top of each cluster. Sprinkle lightly with sea salt.
- Chill until set. Refrigerate for 30 minutes, or until the clusters are firm and hold their shape. Store in an airtight container at room temperature for up to one week.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 148 | Protein: 3g | Fat: 8g | Carbs: 17g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 72mg