Like sex, the way a couple eats together is a pretty good indicator of a relationship’s future and what troubles may lie ahead.

I recall a first date with a guy who wanted to show me his favourite Montreal restaurant. When I arrived at the charming candlelit bistro he suggested we dine at the bar then proceeded to chat up the cute female bartender. Sure, he lavished me with expensive wine and food (both were amazing and delicious) but I wasn’t sure who he was trying to impress: me or her. That was our first and last date.

When dining out with another prospective boyfriend I suddenly developed a bad case of stomach cramps. I think it’s because I couldn’t entirely relax around him: he was just too intellectual and intense. Needless to say, the romance never took flight (mostly because I was always flying off to the ladies’ room to pass wind.)

My friend Christin says she once dated a guy who made her a superb homecooked gourmet dinner, but she couldn’t enjoy it because the whole time she kept thinking she’d never be able to make him a meal just as good. He wasn’t a romantic interest, he was a rival. End of story.

The FC and I had good food chemistry right away. He wasn’t a pretentious gourmand wanting to impress me, or the bartender, with his good taste: he just enjoyed eating. He also made me relax (no stomach cramps) dug seafood (phew!) and was always very appreciative of my cooking — ie, he didn’t need to compete, though we did have one close call.

What was your worst romantic food moment? Did it end the relationship or were you able to recover? Please share.

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