A romantic dinner is not just food. It is a mood. It is a warm anticipation, when everything around seems to freeze.

I like to imagine this evening. When the candles quietly crackle, the light is soft, dim, such that you can drown in it. When the sounds in the background become almost indistinguishable, because all the attention is only on him, on the person in front of you.

This is not about ideal recipes and not about long preparations. This is about the state when time stops rushing. When a glass of wine warms your hands, and the sky outside the window slowly darkens, as if deliberately giving you a chance to stay in this moment longer.

A romantic dinner is not about “how it should be”. This is when you want to speak in a whisper. When the fork touches the plate, but you don't hear it - because your gaze is already in his.
This is when the silence between you is not awkwardness, but a language in which you both understand everything without words.

It seems to me that on such evenings memories are born that do not get lost over the years. They smell of cinnamon, wine, leather and a little electricity - from slight excitement and the desire for this evening to never end.

And, perhaps, the main thing in a romantic dinner is not what is on the table. But who is sitting next to you.