With our coinpurses clutched ever tighter in our sweaty fists, Valentine’s Day is shaping up to be a little, well, limp, this year.

Lots of romance-related industries are feeling the pain — wine shops, restaurants, hotels, travel. Long thought to be recession-proof, even the adult entertainment industry is down, according to an article on Newsvine. Where’s the love?

At my house, we’re having a Valentine’s Day dinner party for 6, which is great for my guests, but it cost me $20 for a bag of shrimp and another $20 for a chocolate cake. What the hell? Of course, the cake was my idea and, obviously, it was a necessity because truffles are involved. It’s still cheaper than a dozen roses, but damn, the days of la-dee-dah boxes of Godiva and wild orchids are over, baby. It’s cake or candy or flowers. And maybe it’s a cupcake and nothing. Or a pancake. Things are tough all over. My husband could spit nails.

But, instead he’s working on his new passion, which is homemade pasta. Flour, egg, salt. Hours of entertainment + dinner. The kids get to turn the crank, mom gets linguine with butter, and my husband (He Who Cares Not a Whit for Mitre Saws) has Thursday night something to do that doesn’t cost hardly any damn money. I let him go crazy with the mascarpone from time to time, but it’s really not expensive. The pasta machine itself was not free, but there are a hundred on eBay for less than $50. Close to a hundred. Chances are you know some couple with one in their garage, a wedding gift that’s never been used.

Me? I bake. But, I’m always sneaking in whole grains, so my stuff is not always wildly popular in the house. But I found this recipe for an Italian boule bread that you supposedly can keep as dough in the fridge and whip out and bake whenever you want hot bread. And when do you not want hot bread? When you’re asleep? Even then.

It works. There’s nothing tricky about it. I’m too much of a novice to mess with the recipe by adding flax or oats or anything, so it’s just a muy crusty white frenchy hot loaf of carbs. It goes great with the homemade ravioli, with chili, with Kraft macaroni and cheese, with Ramen noodles, as low as you want to go. Bake a loaf with your stone soup, every day this week. If you don’t have a pizza stone, go buy a big unglazed ceramic tile from the hardware store discontinued pile, and use a smallish wood cutting board for a pizza peel. No kneading — honest. You can eat the first loaf the same day you make it if you give yourself a 5-6 hour headstart for the rising and stuff.  http://www.motherearthnews.com/Real-Food/Artisan-Bread-In-Five-Minutes-A-Day.aspx

Mother Earth has some good stuff in it, if you skip over the churning butter and gelding piglets. But, as you can expect, there isn’t much in there about skanking up your sex life on Valentine’s Day for ten bucks or less.

For that, you go to Ruby. And my solution here to the problem posed in the title? Red Vines, bags and bags of them. Figure it out. Hope it takes all night.

Later, after the lovin’, write me in great detail about something else. Something PG or PG-13. Or just a little R. Okay, tell me everything. It’ll be good to get it off your chest.

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