The Date was September 9, 2006. Phil was crewing on his buddy Jeff’s C&C 35 Flying Colors, and I was on Craig Daniels’ Cal 20, called For My Girls. We both stepped off the boats on which we were crewing and met on the dock when the committee boat tapped the keg (the first keg). We carried on drinking fine northwest microbrew for several hours, as sailors are wont to do, cheerfully discussing the day’s race. Folks did their own thing for dinner - the bigger boats cooking in their galleys, and Craig and I cooking on a camping stove we set up on the dock. I distinctly remember the scene of Craig lying supine on the dock, dutifully stirring the Risotto ai Porcini.

Phil and I continued our flirtation late in the evening with a dozen other sailors, passing around a bottle of rum around a big bonfire on the island. But Phil really took notice of me the next morning, when he spied me frying up a skillet full of squash blossoms. He inquired as to this strange concoction - a zucchini flower, dipped in egg, dredged in flour and sauteed in butter - imagine how bold I was to feed him one by hand, this handsome fellow I had just met the day before. One taste and he was sunk.

It seems that food figures prominently in our courtship (no wonder). The next run-in I had with Phil was a month later. I had traveled to Italy and promised to call him upon my return. We met up at a sailing party. I had just been to The Dalles where I had found a quince tree laden with ripe fruit that needed picking, and when I told Phil the story he remembered that his grandmother had cooked quince. I offered to give him a bag full, and I happened to have a copy of a recipe for quince paste. He accepted the challenge, and to my surprise, he called me the next day. He said,”I made some lovely quince paste.” I said, “You DID?!” and we agreed to meet for dinner. (Quince paste is not only tricky and labor-intensive, it leaves pink spots on your kitchen ceiling and your forearms if you aren’t careful.)

Phil happened to be on his boat that evening (Mira is Phil’s 34 foot Pacific Seacraft - bluewater boat with a beautiful teak interior), and we decided to meet there and make dinner with whatever we had on hand. Phil had fresh quince paste and Manchego. I had Padron peppers and risotto and dried porcini, the last of my New Mexico catch. We made a terrific dinner together in Mira’s tiny galley and spent hours talking and eating and drinking wine. We will forever consider this our first date, and ever since then have celebrated the 20th of every month as our anniversary. That’s the quince story. It will figure prominently at the wedding, and I expect we will be making toasts with quince and prosecco, since we put up many jars of quince syrup in anticpation of the event.