Introduction
This year Valentine’s Day felt different.
Maybe it was the timing. We had just returned from a week-long cruise to Mexico with family. Maybe it was the decision to slow down instead of rushing through a crowded restaurant on the 14th itself. Or maybe it was the fact that I finally got something exactly right.
We stretched Valentine’s across a couple of days this year.
Painting the Moment
On Wednesday evening we found ourselves at the beautiful Multnomah Whiskey Library, and along with partaking in their delicious cocktails we hand-painted watercolor Valentine’s cards created by Spokane artist Emily Lex. There is something grounding about sitting across from your spouse, quietly painting a card that you know they will keep. It forces intention.
After hand water coloring the cards, I prepared my messages in both English and Korean.
More on that in a moment.
A Peaceful Interlude
Rather than battling the inevitable crowds today on Valentine’s Day, we had our primary celebration yesterday. After I finished work we headed out into one of those moody Portland afternoons, a slight drizzle in the air and that crisp February chill that feels almost cinematic.
Our first stop was a reservation-only Sip and Swoon event at the Portland Japanese Garden.
The Umami Café, perched over a scenic hillside with views toward Washington Park, was hosting a special menu. The space, inspired by Kyoto’s Kiyomizu-dera Temple, feels as if it floats above the trees. It is serene, warm, and understated.
After walking through the gardens, I handed Kay the two cards I had painted earlier in the week.
She read them.
Then the tears started.
The good kind.
The kind that say you hit the mark.
We sat together afterward inside the café and ordered tea and pastries. I chose the Hojicha paired with an Opera Cake. The roasted green tea carried deep, malty caramel notes, and the layered cake of biscuit joconde, coffee buttercream, and chocolate ganache was rich without being overwhelming.
Kay ordered Sencha with a Tarte aux Fraise. The organic green tea, deep-steamed in fukumushi style, carried a subtle umami character that paired beautifully with the delicate puff pastry, pastry cream, and fresh strawberries.
It was quiet. Cozy. Intentional.
The perfect prelude to the day’s ultimate event.
I’ll Leave It Up To You
From there we made the short eight-minute drive to Takibi for their Valentine’s Winter Omakase menu. Takibi’s name references the Japanese word for bonfire, and the warmth of the space lives up to it. We paired the experience with a sake sampler for me and a mocktail sampler for Kay.
The first wave of eats arrived as two abundant baskets of small plates: tuna sashimi, scallop carpaccio, oyster with ponzu gelee and ikura, karaage with shishito pepper, simmered chashu pork with bamboo shoots, brussels sprouts in mustard miso, and kombu-pickled vegetables. It was a feast before the meal had even properly begun. The tuna sashimi stood out immediately, silky and clean, melting almost instantly in our mouths.
Next came chawanmushi, a delicate Japanese steamed egg custard in a deeply savory dashi broth. It is not a dish for everyone. The texture is soft and subtle, almost ethereal. For those who appreciate it, it is pure comfort.
A harvest vegetable tempura followed, sweet potato slices and maitake mushrooms fried lightly and precisely. Crisp exterior, tender interior, no heaviness or greasiness.
Then came two chunks of saikyo miso-marinated black cod. Flaky, sweet, and perfectly balanced. Kay began to reach her limit at this point. I was just getting warmed up.
We added the optional grilled eight-ounce ribeye topped with shredded bonito, marinated overnight and impossibly tender.
The final savory course brought chilled ramen broth with snow-aged wheat soba noodles alongside salmon and Hamachi nigiri selected by the chef. The broth carried a subtle smokiness that complemented the slight chew of the noodles, ending the savory progression on a thoughtful note.
Dessert sealed the evening. A chocolate mochi cake resting on coconut cream and topped with pomegranate and sesame seeds. Part brownie, part mochi, entirely memorable.
Kay left with a full to-go box. I left full, but not uncomfortably so. And somewhere between watercolor cards, tea in the garden, and wave after wave of omakase, we created what may have been our best Valentine’s yet.
Sometimes the right plan is not to outdo the holiday.
It is to stretch it out, slow it down, and make it personal.
This year, that plan worked.